Not So Lucky
by Anatha
Summary: Formerly titled "When She Came." Johnny was living as normally as possible when suddenly a girl appears on his doorstep and requests if she could stay for awhile. Johnny for some reason says yes. What happens? Bad at summaries, sorry.
1. Not So Alone Anymore

Alright, before you get on with the story, I would just like to clear something up. This story was up here before, as many of you might know, but then my former account got deleted. So, anyways, the story was once titled "When She Came," but, I decided to er, modify it a little bit.

The first chapter, though, when I first wrote this, didn't get a whole lot of good reviews, but, as I progressed, it became a bit more interesting and stuff. Therefor, please my people, do try to give it a chance. I got up to nine chapters last time, and most of the people seemed to kind of enjoy it, so, yea. Cough cough... now, the most depressing part of the introduction:

**D**_i**sc**l_a**i**me**r**: I do not own any of the characters in this fic, except for Felix and her little puppet, but, the little puppet child comes up in later chapters. Please, read and review, and try to enjoy.

**

* * *

**

**CHAPTER 1: **Meet Felix

A perfect day, just like the day before, and the day before that. Each passing hour was flawless. His pleasures were satisfied, the bloodlust had been satiated, and the only friendly-looking thing left in the fall afternoon in that dump of a house was the broken couch. Despite a patch or two of leather missing on the back of the couch and the rusting, creaking coils of the mattress making a slight _boing! _Sound after every attempt to relax on its lumpy cushions, it seemed remarkably comfortable that wonderful Friday afternoon. Johnny, disturbed seemingly-innocent Johnny-boy, was napping on his couch, right eye occasionally squinting a bit more than he other in dreams of distortion to the innocents of the town.

Oh, what a pleasant dream it was to the psychotic boy... the beginning had been quite pleasant. It was after a school football game of the nearby High School, and the cheerleaders were chattering and giggling perkily to one another as they all strutted down the streets in their customary prissy manner. He, Johnny, the Great Murderer, had stalked quietly behind them in the side bushes, a menacing smile stretched over his face. He had managed to "cheer-nap" (That was what the little voice in the back of his head told him to call it) and had dragged her back to his domain. He had strapped her down, and was slowly mutilating her for pleasure. Oh, how she screamed, oh how she bled!

First, he had bound her to a convenient, white cot in a once-vacant room, everything black around the two except for the lamp that dramatically dangled overhead, casting ominous shadows over menacing Johnny's expression. Besides the homicidal maniac was a small gray cart, shelved with scissors, a scalpel, screw driver, machete, chainsaw, practically everything a maniac would need for his murders. Where it had come from he didn't know, but currently he didn't necessarily care. He had used a small dagger nearby on the floor to cut out her tongue, and, (to the cheerleader's great discomfort) blood began to pool in the back of her mouth. If something did not happen soon, she would be drowned in her own crimson regret.

But, to her great inconvenience and dismay (and to Johnny's sick amusement), the straps were bound so that her hands were slapped to her revealed thighs, where it was impossible to twist her wrist around to free herself without snapping some bone in her limb.

Tears were running down her cheeks, as she wailed for someone, but the lack of tongue and the slowly pooling blood made it undecipherable who she was crying out to. Johnny, who was sitting on a three-legged stool (that had also conveniently came out of nowhere), only rested his head in his palm and propped his elbow on one his knee, watching with a devilish smile of glee.

"Enjoying your stay guest?" he asked casually, swaying insanely in his little seat. Deep down though, he was becoming vaguely impatient about how slow this was all taking. He fondled a silver dagger where the victim could not see it, lip pouted out in annoyance... Most of his damned victims met their demise pretty quickly!

The wench shook her head and cried out ever louder. "AWA SOWWA!" She screamed, vomiting a combination of bile and blood in desperation at the frantic scream. "BAH HOO AW OOH ENGWEH WIH?" ((A/N: I'll translate at the end of the chapter))

"Hmmm?" Johnny cocked a brow in an innocent manner, though the cheerleader knew too well that it did not suit him at all. "I'm actually infuriated with no one in particular at the moment... just reflecting the same agony your kind reaped on me... well, that was emotional, but, I decided to let my creative side take control of this and translate it to physical... you likie?"

A gurgle of terror and agony replied to that inquiry.

"Hmmm... you don't seem very happy. You seem to be in a lot more pain than you were supposed to be, but, of course, that might be the point..."

She cried out desperately to anyone, absolutely any human organism who might just so happen to meander nearby.

Johnny laughed out loud, and shook his head. "This is what you get," He said, his voice maniacal and dangerously quiet. "This is what you, and your fucking kind get for calling me different for all of those years, smiling in that mocking way of your and throwing your greatness and beautiful-ness in the lower being's face! Yea, sure, I knew there was something a little bit different about myself, but you and your companions didn't have to ridicule me publicly for all of those years! Well, is that how it is!? You absolutely _have_ to ridicule to climb to the top rank of popularity!? Is it!? I just wanted to be left alone in High School, when I was your age, but NO! YOU ASSHOLES HAD TO COME AND POINT AND LAUGH AND RIDICULE AND CRITISCIZE AND CALL MY HAIR WEIRD AND-"

He had burst out into insane laughter before he had finished his freakishly loud opinion, thrown the knife he had been fondling before behind his shoulder, where he heard it clatter on the wooden planks of the floor. To his immense satisfaction, her already terrified expression was paler than a zombie's and her beautiful blue eyes were wide enough to pop out of her pretty face.

Cackling and shrieking with insanity, he slammed both of his hands onto the hilt of the chainsaw, one accessing the little yellow button that read ON/OFF. The victim screamed in horror, a shrill cry that would have broken glass, if, one, there had been glass, and two, if that rising puddle of lifeblood in her throat hadn't muffled her voice. He sharply whirled around his head at her, his face contorted with insanity, as he arched the chainsaw above his head over her abdomen, the saw vibrating and vrooming impatiently.

His grin was so wide it almost stretched into his ears. Still cackling like a lunatic on crack, he positioned his wrists so that the sharp blade would get her directly in the stomach—

_Knock, knock, knock._

Just when he was about to plunge the murderous instrument down, he paused. He thought he had heard something. He blinked and looked back to the girl, who was whimpering still so badly that blood was being choked up with every desperate wail. Shrugging, he directed all of his attention back to her, laughing again, and raised it higher to get greater impact—

_Knock, knock, knock._

There it was again! He blinked, growled slightly and impatiently switched the chainsaw button to off mode. "What the fuck is that!?" He demanded to no one in particular, clenching his fist and staring around the darkness wildly. He wheeled a loony eye at the cheerleader, who cringed. "WAS IT YOU!?"

She shook her head violently, issuing sprays of burgundy liquid here and there while claming her eyes shut to block out the silhouette of Johnny as he observed his surrounding tentatively. _Knock, knock, knock. _What the hell was that? Growing even more and more irritated by the micro-second, he grabbed the nearest knife from his assisting cat, and looked around. He had stepped into the shadows, and—

He had woken up.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-..-.-.-.-

"What the fuck...?" He groaned, as he sat himself up on the couch. He had a glorious, pleasing dream... He was mutilating a formerly-perky cheerleader... his black hair was ruffled, his eyes were half-shut with lingering sleep, and he found that last night's instruments of torture were laid out on the floor, over a dried puddle of vital juices.

What had woken him up though? It was rather irking, and it had disrupted the final stage of his (not really) infamous murders. He sighed and kicked his legs over the couch, and massaged his eyes. What a sweet vision... That was strange though, he almost never dreamt. Come to think of it, he hardly ever slept too. _One hell of a day, _he reasoned, yawning slightly.

He got up, stretched his skinny back and popped his neck. He had taken a couple of steps forward and opened his mouth to yawn once more—

_Knock, knock, knock._

Now he remembered! It was that fucking noise! It had interrupted the best part of the kill, and it had vexed him greatly! Now, he had to DESTROY the source!

In mid yawn, he idly let his arms fall limply to his side at his second stretch, shutting his maw lazily with a faint _click. _He grabbed the damn door knob, and yanked it open, his eyes one third closed from the faint tingle of sleep. He opened his mouth to groggily demand that the damn solicitor piss off, but found instead that his right eye had opened all the way in confusion, amazement, and annoyance.

In front of him, stood a scrawny feminine being. She was wearing a black short-sleeved shirt that read comically "My Cat Is My Best Friend," with a black that reached a couple of inches above her pale knees. Over her shirt was an unbuttoned trench coat, with the insignia "Z?" over the breast. Around her neck were only a couple of things: a black spiked choker with three-quarters of an inch long metal barbs protruding, and the necklace beneath it, was a silver chain choker with black ribbon entwined within its rings, with Jack Skellington from the Nightmare Before Christmas dangling in the center. Her fingernails were strangely patterned, for on the left hand all five nails were highlighted ebony, but her right limb hand was tinted with the peculiar pattern of white-black-white. Her legs were garmented with black and white knee-high striped socks, and on her feet were strapped steel-toe boots. Her face was pale, and her hair was dark brunette, tied back in a ponytail. Both of her ears were pierced three times in the ear lobe, a safety pin at the bottom, a garnet die in the center, and the top earring a simple black stud. In her right hand was what appeared to be a common black duffel bag, and slung over her shoulder was a small black bag where she obviously had an adventure with white out.

"Can I help you?" Johnny asked casually but leisurely, both optics open now. Most of the sleep had gone away while studying the female stranger.

"You're... er, Johnny, right?" The teenager asked, forgetting to answer his question. She titled her head politely, and arched a brow.

"That would depend on you," He stated truthfully but bluntly. "What do you want?"

"I'm Felix, and, er, I'm new in town," She stated plainly, withdrawing her head back into a proper position gradually. "Um, I need a place to stay. I can't seem to find a good job, and the phone book read "777..." sounds like the code to heaven, or something, and, well... it seems homely. The directory described the owner to be dubbed Jonathon Colt..." Her eyebrow lowered a little bit. "That would be you, right?"

Johnny blinked, caught off his guard entirely. _What the fuck...? _He thought, putting his hands together idly. "It's very nice to meet you Miss Felix, but, you can't stay here."

Her eyes widened. "But, why-why—"

"First of all, the rooms here aren't exactly sanitary, nor will they be pleasing to a citizen of the likings of you. Second of all, I'm sorry that you can't get a job, but, well, most teenagers can't, but they all seem to be fine! Third of all—"He peeked around the door frame mystically, eyes shifting around in keen observance. "Does this place honestly look like homely heaven to you? And well, last of all, I'm not interested in sharing companionship with anyone at the moment, so if you would please be kind enough to go away—"

He sighed, raising his left hand and using both his index finger and thumb to rub his eyes in soothing circles. The other hand crept its way unnoticeably into his coat pocket, fingering a dagger he always kept with him, while his other continued it's massaging.

"Come on, please, I need a place to stay," The girl dubbed Felix insisted desperately, allowing her suitcase to fall with a flat _clunk _on the concrete doorstep. "I promise I won't be that annoying... just let me stay a little while, and when I get the money to rent a place of my own—"

A thought suddenly occurred in Johnny's head. If she was that stupid to want to live with him, she might be and easy target. Watching her scream would be most excellent... he raised his eyebrows.

"I'll think about it," He growled, letting his hand retreat from his eyeballs and fall weakly to his flank. His expression did not seem pleased at all, but nevertheless he stepped aside for her to pave her path to her intended doom.

Felix smiled appreciatively, and lifted her suitcase up again before stepping into House 777. Her gaze shifted around the front room in newfound interest, half aware of the faint sound of a _click _as Johnny politely shut the door behind her. "Quite the colorful human, aren't you?" She asked quietly, almost to no one in particular as she interestedly observed what looked like a sharpened pizza cutter delved into the soft torso of a teddy bear.

Johnny lifted a brow in provocation, feeling the knife in the depths of his pocket vibrate with keenness. He bit his lip and chewed it furiously, taking a couple of steps forward behind her. To his satisfaction and amusement, the knowledge that she was completely unaware of her impending doom... oblivious that her life was going to end within the next three seconds...

Suddenly he halted. What if this Felix girl wasn't such a bad person as she first appears? Well, actually, she had been quite gracious so far, and she hadn't criticized his style of life. But, how would he hide what he likes to do best from her!? There were rotting body parts in some room, secret stairways to lower torture chambers, a blood-stained wall—how oblivious is she going to be to all of those not-so-typical things?

_Give her a chance, Nny, _He silently told himself, lowering the knife and placing it back into its safe place in his coat compartment. His shoulders slumped slightly in disappointment, as he wheeled around on the heel of his foot towards the mouth of the main corridor that branched off to regular sized rooms on either side. "I guess you can make yourself at home," He breathed, running a slender hand through his tousled black hair and popping his neck absentmindedly. "Er, just try not to touch anything, please."

She raised her eyebrows, and glanced behind her shoulder to regard the true owner of the house, and her indebted smile grew a quarter of a centimeter longer. "Thank you," She replied, turning her head around to study the household. She began her exploration of the house with one hundred percent interest, while commenting from a nearby vacant room, "I like what you've done to the place!"

The homicidal maniac arched a brow in mild surprise as he tapped his fingers together beneath his chin, pondering the situation he damned himself into. "Don't get used to it," He found himself muttering bitterly, sauntering off silently down the hallway and into the nearest unoccupied room.

This was definitely a first for Johnny. No one had ever dared to approach his house (except for "dear" friend Jimmy, or "Mmy." And we all saw why no one ever approached); and all of the people foolish enough to visit him never arrived in such a manner. To live here, in this blood-drowned hellhole? What the hell is she thinking!?

He sighed once again, and shook his head. He seemed to be doing that quite frequently these days...

Maybe this Felix girl won't be so bad... maybe she could assist on a kill or something, or help him scheme more ideas on how to destroy the beautiful people. Of course, he would have to learn to trust her first, but, she was just another one of those animalistic organisms in human disguises... it's what most of humanity is, after all. What would ever make her so damn special that she wasn't like the other people? She might call the police on him when he was in a homicidal mood... that's never good. But then there is also the possibility that on the outside she's normal, but deep down, she has a twisted, demented, murderous heart... but, that was unlikely, since there didn't seem to be a trace of inadequate-ness in her to prove that. Would she have the nerve to tell anyone though? After seeing some of the horrors he had committed in the past, she might become so insane she wouldn't be able to speak properly. It might be nice, though, to have someone sitting besides him when he was watching the stars at night. But, this person could be a downright asshole and the whole thing with the manners could just be a fucking act to convince him that she was a nice little girl, who will eventually reveal her true identity as a bossy bitch that will force him to do everything she demands! But, no... if it ever did result to something that drastic, he could always just slaughter her and get on with every day life. He did that nearly every day with other people...

Chuckling, he shook his head and he slumped back against the wall, slowly sliding down in custom sadness. He was thinking about this issue too much. He was getting concerned over something that will probably be pointless in the future. What could it hurt? She wasn't dangerous, oh no, much too polite to be proven criminally insane...

This was a moment, in which he wished that he still had Nailbunny to converse with.

* * *

Erm, yes, cough-cough. That was chapter one, and, for those of you who had read it before, I did indeed make a few modifications to the dialouge and situation. I know it seems a bit Mary Suish right now, but, please kinda give it a chance. When one thinks about it, this kind of is my first Johnny fic, and stuff. So, yea. Anyways, please leave a review on waht you think and stuff. Yes. 

Oh yes, and i did say I would translate the bawling cheerleader creature of doom. Um, yea, here we go:

**AWA SOWWA, BUH HOO AW OOH ANGWEH WIH!? **

Translated (calmly): I'm sorry, but who are you angry with?

I want a monkey for Christmas... dyah, I'm getting off track again. Wonderful. Anyways, yet again, please leave a review to let me know what you people thingies think and stuff. Er, um, yea. Buh byeish.

.::.:.::.:AnathA:.::.:.::.


	2. Punishment

Wow... normally on first attempts on fanfics, I get this serious flame from a bunch of people... This is actually somewhat amazing... my father hasn't come home with my Chinese food yet... watch me fry in a fetal position... I've been suffering from a minor case of nostalgia lately, and this damn phase won't evanescence and leave me alone, so, I might only update once or twice a week. Sorry guyes. But I'm kinda glad that you liked it and stuff.

Ooh, yayness. The funnest part of the chapter! Ha ha, watch me review all of the people thingies! hee hee... freakishly perky and hyper right now, watch me skip and sing like a lunatic! Fwee hee, I'm out of character right now... but, looking past that, perfectly normal.

Anyways...:

**forbiddentoast:** Ooh... Yayness. I ish, er, happy that you are enjoying the story so far, and stuffish. Yea, I'm really bad at replying to the posts for the first chapter and stuff, 'cause normally I don't know how to reply to them and stuff, and they flame me for my ranting, like I am right now, and now you all are going to flame me. _(sad voice) _Moooopp... anyways, yes! Felix kicks ass! Plus, Felix is how I got the title for the story and stuff. I shall explain at the end of the chapter and thingies and shtuff. By the way, your nickname. **toastie**, that kicks ass. I want a toaster... but no. Nobody indulges me with my desires now do they? Of course, none of us really ever gets what we truly desire... ARMAGEDDON!

**Nessa Inwe: **Ooh ish, yayness! I knew that you would return and start viewing again! Hurrah for pizza! I'm slightly out of it right now, but, I'm sure I'll be back here in a few minutes. damn it, start updating your Lord of the Rings story! Must see Aragorn and his feminine sword! Heh heh... Ah, well... yes, I do realize that I am still a little bit out of it. And the Christmas exchange is done! I might not be able to send you a real pidgeon, but you don't know that! I desire monkies for le holiday season! Hurray! Moosey fate... anyways. And I'm happy that I put it back on the internet too! But, then the people might delete it once again... ARMAGEDDON!

**Aoi Neko-chan: **Ha ha. You and me have the same perspective, miss Aoi. All of my friends love frickin' Squee, and they just want to hug him and marry him and just label him the "most adorable widdle ting dey have evah seeeeen!" By the way, that is in exact quotes. But yes! Another human organism that finds Nny inexplicably sweet and adoreable! Despite his homicidal personality, he's just a long-lost sad man who just needs to be loved... that's why Felix is there. She's just suppose to serve as a friend and that is FINAL. Er... cough cough... I still want monkey. Yea, too bad that Johnny would probably kill you at the attempt of an embrace. sadly. Oh well... he is adoreable. Oh yes, and I actually recieved your e-mail thinamajig of doom the other day... you probably might have noticed by recieving the reply thingy... I love stating the obvious... ooh, and I am STILL flattered at the whole "interesting human" remark. I'd hardly label myself interesting... but, thank you anyways,c and contiue reviewing and stuffs.

**Koomori: **Yeeee... thank you for your act of sympathy for my former account. I got a little pissed off at the whole "AnimeFreakos thing-getting-deleted"... thing... I'm not using well gramma now... I need a moose for Christmas... And, I guess now you have no reason to wonder why there is no story when you search for it now. Heh heh... Er, yet again, stating the obvious is fun. I'm also glad and stuff that you find the story so... um, readable? Readable... I'm becoming more and more pathetic as life goes on... that's not good... ARMAGEDDON! My spelling! It sucks! ARMAGEDDON! Indulge me with bacon-eating biscuits... Ooh ooh ohh! By the way, _arigato gozimus_ (thank you very much) for the encouragment for my writing! Tank ooh, tank ooh, tank ooh...

**lonelost: **Ooh, ooh! Yayness! You, dear friend Deanna Rodriguez, actually obtained your account without technical difficulties! Ha ha, watch me writhe on the ground in temporary joy! ... okay, happy phase over. Anyways, yayness! The Y key on my keyboard won't work! I still desire flour-based foods. Hooray for biscuits! My dad's friends are strange, and find my typing skills inexplicably fast... they scare me... ah, well. Anyways, I'm still in random mood! Whee!! I still want a monkey for Christmas... or a moose... yes, a moose might suit better. But, you better post your story on here soon, I might have to hurt you if you don't... by the way, you're sausage-coated-in-snowy-fur-and-pudgy-legs will indeed go to hell! Evil chihuahua... I still can't spell! ARMAGEDDON!

**Githoniel: **Yes! I remember you, reviewer person thingy! I'm freakishly hyper right now off of Root Beer! WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! I wish I had some pop rocks right now... I must learn to cope with hte desires that I cannot recieve... like homicidal ex-boyfriends... now I'm ranting. ANYWAYS: Yay! It's good to see a familiar reviwered user pen name thingy again. My gramma is still not well... gramma... my spelling... ARMAGEDDON! Heh heh... I need to get that phrase out of my system so I don't infect my personallity even worst than I have already in educational society... dun dun dun dun... hooray for Beethoven! Meethoven... ARMAGEDDON! I love your Pen Name... 'tis pretty... plus I memorized the little "Oh Elbreth Gilthoniel" song in the first Lord of the Rings book with my own hymn... heh heh... when I was younger, I had alot of time on my hands... I still have alot of time on my hands... heh heh... ARMAGEDDON!

Ha ha. I got alot more reviews for the first chapter than I figured I would have obtained... dun dun dun dun... hooray for Beethoven! ... again! I love elipses... anyways, I hope you people enjoy this chapter. Er... yes! Go, filthy stink children, read on my horrible script of wishful fantasies that concern our dear protagonist Johnny! Muahahahahahaha... the sky is black where I sit and type this meaningless nonsense.

**D**_i**sc**l_a**i**me**r**: I do not own any of the characters in this fic, except for Felix and her little puppet, but, the little puppet child comes up in later chapters. Please, read and review, and try to enjoy.

**

* * *

****CHAPTER 2:** Johnny Having Fun 

Johnny the malicious bastard was standing in the central patch of floorboards in a vacant chamber deep in the bowels of his house. Well... that was lie. It wasn't entirely vacant at all. There were musty crates here and thither in the room, some pried open and others barred shut, accompanied with stray weapons, such as small knives, a typical dagger, and what looked like a thick jar of acid.

Speaking of being accompanied...

Of course he wasn't the only human being in there... his victim was chained down and restrained in a bloodstained strait jacket, not to mention being gagged by a graying stinking rag. The guy whom he was going to murder tonight criticized his house of being a rundown piece of shit. Only an asshole would say something like that, and every human unfortunate enough to get on Johnny's bad side knew too well how much he "loved" assholes...

The asshole's name was Greg. Greg Burton, an asshole who had once made fun of him when he went to a café a few previous months before. He had not only labeled Nny's house a rundown piece of shit, but he also addressed Johnny himself as "a freak."

So, the asshole was weighed down by a couple of stakes hammered into the floorboards (and through his kneecaps), and was trying to scream through the disgusting dish cloth stuffed in his orifice, but only amused the homicidal male more and more by the moment.

"So, what kind of house do you live in, Mr. Person Who Doesn't like My House?" he asked casually as he plopped himself comfortable down on a nearby crate, He propped his skeletal arm up on his bony knee and rested his head in his slender palm.

The victim narrowed his eyes and tried to scream through the grotesque dish rag shoved into the back of his throat, but only muffled, undecipherable grunts were audible.

Johnny swayed slightly in satisfaction as his victim attempted to cuss him out in frustration and (despite how well he hid it) fear. Just to scare the hell out of him, he lolled a lazy eye towards the floor, where an ebony stiletto lay besides the toe of his boots. A crazy grin split his face as he delicately (and mockingly) grasped and lifted it up in a somewhat innocent manner, rolling the metallic hilt in his thin fingers.

"I'm sorry, but I can't understand you," Johnny pointed out, his left eyebrow levitating a couple of centimeters in escalating hilarity as Greg's eyes amplified in horror.

This time, though, there was no courageous come back, just a whimpering, gurgled noise that was stifled behind layers of gross discarded material in his fat mouth.

Nny arched an eyebrow, and suddenly gripped the hilt of the dagger in frighteningly concealed firmness. He slanted the position of his head to the right and allowed his optics to contract. "Still can't hear you," He stated bluntly, although a menacing eeriness had tainted his tone.

All that came was more desperate whining.

He chortled as he slid himself slyly off of the wooden box, kneeling in front of the frantic Greg. He swayed once again, but managed to keep himself balanced as he peered at Greg's paling face. He subconsciously made sure his fervent fingers didn't fumble the knife incorrectly in his eager hands... he did not want blood to spurt just yet.

His neck straightened up once again, and both eyebrows rose up towards the ceiling. The realization that the sufferer was still being smothered with the disgusting dishrag has just suddenly dawned upon him. "That explains it," he muttered to himself.

One eyebrow sunk down in a furrowing expression, and mercilessly swung his arm around and ripped the cloth from his victim's jaws. Evidently the whining of the victim had caused Greg's maw to clamp tightly on the cloth in nervousity, and the tugging harshly out of his teeth's grip did not suit well. Johnny figured this when two of Greg's molars flew out, and tumbled a couple of yards away into one of the neglected dark corners of the room.

"Now... as I said before," Johnny began once again casually, ignoring Greg's continuation of whimpers. "What kind of a house do you live in, Mr. Person Who Doesn't like My House?"

"Just let me go," Greg whispered hoarsely, his optics becoming teary. To Johnny's random amusement they became unusually shiny in the dense light. "Please, j-just let me go..."

Johnny's raised eyebrow lifted up a bit higher at this request, but habitually continued his constant swaying. He opened his mouth to deny this application—

A door clicked open some distance away, followed by a trail of soft footsteps progressing down the corridor...

Shit. For the second time now, his female acquaint Felix, had disrupted yet another finale of a kill.

Knowing immediately who it was, he sighed a felt his dagger tumble to the very tips of his finger, along with the desire to mutilate someone. "Damn it, she came back," He cursed in a low tone, thrusting his arms up at the air in exasperation.

"Johnny?" Felix's voice carried through the thin door quite easily, the foot steps becoming ever louder. "Um, Johnny? Are you there?"

Greg's nonstop sniveling ceased almost immediately, his head shooting up in newfound faith. He saw a light! A beautiful little light of hope... Someone was actually here! They could get him out of here, and she could call the police and get this fucker arrested and then—

"Johnny—" The door knob rattled as the two men on the ground watched it rotate towards the left. It gradually creak open, and there stood a... female, perhaps around the age of fourteen or fifteen. Clothed in ebony, the girl's brown irises widened at the sight that was unfolded before her.

Greg cracked an insane smile, and actually released a high-pitched guffaw at his luck! "Miss, get the police!" He shrieked joyfully. "He's fucking insane, call the police, he's trying to kill me, call them quickly, please—"

Felix merely stood there and blinked at the unknown figure. She tilted her head forty-five degrees to the right and continued her blinking at his pleads. She declined her head back into a proper position before turning a confused eye to Johnny. "Er, um... Johnny?" She began, observing his eyebrow rising in skeptical ness. "What the fuck is going on...?"

Luckily for Johnny, the crate he was formerly resting on was placed do his housemate couldn't see the nailed kneecaps of Greg Burton, and the knife that he had dancing at his fingertips. He tilted his head and pouted his lip out habitually.

When Johnny did not reply to her straight forward inquiry, she glanced a wary eye to the other guy. Who was also strapped in a strait jacket. And cackling like a loon.

Both of Nny's eyebrows shot up in alarm and mild astonishment when Felix actually laughed out loud. "Erm, I won't ask," She chortled, wagging her head side to side. "I think I'm gonna go and leave both of you alone now... Johnny, I'll check up on you in a few minutes okay?"

Greg's cackling silenced immediately in dismay as he heard this statement. His eyes expanded frenetically as he shouted, "WHAT TE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE!?!" Felix shortened her soft laughter, but managed to still hold her amused smirk as Johnny just sort of rotated his head back to him. "I SAW A LIGHT! A PRETTY LITTLE LIGHT! A PRETTY LITTLE LIGHT OF HOPE! WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO MY SAVIOR!?!"

At this point, Felix's smile had flipped itself to a frown of confuzzlement ((A/N: Oh shut up, and leave me alone, I kind of like that word, deal with it... yes.)) "Er... Johnny," She addressed, focusing her attention on the psycho. Once she had gotten his concentration on her, she continued, "Um, I got us some Chinese. It's up front if you want anything."

"Not hungry," He responded almost immediately, averting his gaze to ensure that the stiletto was out of her vision.

"Ookay then," She said, blinking. She tilted her head at Greg, conclusively signaled a polite wave of farewell, and sighed. "Have fun, Nny."

"With that, she had stepped out into the hall, the crappy door clicking softly behind her. Johnny cocked an ear out slightly to listen to her boots press of in the direction of the front room. He exhaled loudly in annoyance, and turned his eyes back to a thunderstruck, paranoid Greg.

"You're all crazy," Greg sputtered spastically, eyes widening as he rocked back and forth somehow, perfectly resembling an inhabitant of a mental institution. "Damn you all, you're all FUCKING CRAZY!!"

Johnny's eyebrow once went airborne again, the thought of not tolerating his roommate winking out of his mysterious little mind. A menacing grin split his face as he tilted his head. The dagger was up high in his hand, glinting maliciously in the faint lamp light.

"Now," the maniac commenced, eyes wide with malice and vengeance. "Where were we!?

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Felix chuckled insanely as she perched herself comfortably in the center base of the broken couch. In her thin hands she held a small cardboard carton of steamed rice, and was eating away with a small plastic spoon she has snagged from a spoon/fork dispenser at the Take-Out desk.

"Johnny's crazy for not wanting any of this shit," She murmured to herself, consuming another scoopful.

Just as she had finished a second helping of foreign grains, she could have sworn that her keen ears had caught something. Something that sounded remotely like agonized hollering and maniacal cackling...

Felix blinked. "Wow," She uttered, peering around the arm of the couch down the hall, her gaze falling on the flimsy door that Johnny and that guy were inhabiting. "Johnny is frickin' crazy... no wonder he doesn't want Chinese..."

* * *

Well, I'm not entirely sure why, but I really loved modifying this chapter. It was rather interesting to read and reread the original then repeat the process over the new version... The Chinese food thing though at the end was just pure coincidence to the fact that I have been eating leftover Chinese take out for the last four days... I love Crag Rangoons... I'm still not so sure about my spelling skills... ARMAGEDDON! 

Well, earlier in the review for **forbiddentoast**, I said I'd answer the whole reason why it was titled "Not So Lucky." Well, it's entirely based on Felix's name: Felix in Latin is actually translated, "lucky, fortunate, etc." And, well... the whole idea of labelling the story "Not So Lucky" sounded a bit more interesting than the others. Heh heh... monkey feet. And besides that, the original title, "When She Came", it kind of sounded Mary Sueish, to me. I kept on changing the title of the story, but, I think I'll just stick with this title for now.

Ooh, also-- this part is kinda fun. This might announcement may seem kinda fmailiar to Gilthoniel and Nessa Inwe, but here I go anyways: Most of the time of my life when I am typing something for my story, I practically always have writer's block, and it's sort of annoying. Heh heh... ah well. What I'm trying to ask, is that if any of you people have any ideas or suggestions for Felix/Johnny/Squee/Devi (pretty much anyone mentioned in JTHM, Squee, I Feel Sick, etc.) please fefel free to add it in your review or e-mail me.

Eek... I'm afraid that this pointless Authoress Conclusion and the introduction is much more reading than the actual chapter itself... that's never good...

Anyways, all who read this chapter, please drop a review!! I'm gonna probably add two chapters a week, so, yea. Anyways, have fun with this. When the holidays come up, there'll probably me a whole lot more. Perhaps once a day. Yay. Depends on my creativity and not-writer's block-ness... ARMAGEDDON!

.::.:.::AnathA::.::.


	3. Out Into the Night

Hey, whaddaya know... I'm putting up the next chapter... yayness. Ha! Now I shall answer my reviewer person thingies. Ha ha, here I go:

**Nessa-you-sort-of-kind-of-know-me-a-little-bit: **Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I did indeed take heed (dyah, god damn it, I rhymed) to what you put above your little review thingy. Ah, well... and YES! THOU SHALT RECIEVE A PIDGEON!... of, some kind. o.O Yet another "Ah-well followed by an elipses" moment... I love elipses... anyways: ANIMATED CHRISTMAS CARD! Yayness! My friends keep on sending me these greeting cards from Neopets... it's slightly annoying. o.o Ha ha, look at the widdle face... _(pokes smiley insanely) _I still can't spell... I hear Inu yasha music... dun dun dun dun... YES! UPDATE THYV STORY OF OUR FEMININE KING ARAGORN! Fweeeeee hee hee hee hee... happy-ish that you liketh chapter. Monkey feet!

**nessagain: **Wow... hey, look, another review from you. _(anime sweatdrop) _Heh heh... I figured it was you... I don't know a whole lot of people with the name "Ness"... let alone usernames... anyways, yea, I figured it was you. Um... sorry? o.o

**Nessa Inwe: **Wow, you don't know when to stop reviewing, do you? o.o' Heh heh... just kidding. Anyways, yes, I am stupid I sucketh alot 'cause I only got the account a few days ago... Oh well...

**Githoniel: **Yayness! Hooray for Elbreth Gilthoniel... _(starts humming hymn) _Fwaha... um, my grammy that was sick about a couple of months ago... she's kinda dead. o.o' When I said "gramma," I was making fun of my spelling for not spelling "grammar" correctly. My formerly sick grandmother has been released from her suffering for quite some time though... hmmm, but I'll accept your sympathy anyways, thank you. o.o' I ish glad that you ish lovey my chapter, though I personally think it sucks... of course, I believe all of my writing to suck, so... _(shrugg)_ And I can't help but randomly blurt out the synonym phrase to the Day of Reckoning! It's kinda stuck in my head.... Oh well... Ha ha, I've got My Chemical Romance stuck in my head... DAMN YOU DEANNA! Oh well. Gladdish you likey!

**

* * *

****CHAPTER 3:** Out into the Night 

Silence.

That was exactly what he loved to hear. Absolute silence. Well, at least for the moment anyways.

Johnny arched a brow and glanced behind his shoulder in the paranoia-like character that was Johnny the Homicidal Maniac. He adjusted the black strap of his ebony backpack slung idly over his bony shoulder, and swayed slightly in his pencil-straight stance, staring in wonder at the steel-toe of his boots. He was suddenly so fascinated by them...

He blinked and randomly flicked his eyes up to the ceiling and glanced to the inanimate cardboard Dough Boys nailed against the now-silent blood-drinking wall. His gaze traveled to the entrance of the corridor, where a flimsy door stood ajar. Despite the windows of his humble home being boarded up, a little voice informed him that it was still about, oh, say, maybe... one or two o' clock in the morning.

His footsteps padded quietly on the wooden floor of his household, he gripped the strap of his bag and swayed again after every footfall. As soon as he was at the entrance of the opened door, he pointed one finger at the very center of it, and poked it open with one slow, strong jab. The rusted hinges groaned in protest as it squeaked out of Johnny's path, who silently skulked out into the living room, aware that besides him the only living-breathing organism in the room was a slumbering Felix, who was laid comfortably on the not-so comfortable couch.

Nny rotated his head around to peer at her, and his arched brow went lowered slightly. Her pale eyelids were gently veiling her auburn-flavored eyes, and she had forgotten to slip off her boots before she slept. Both arms were folded protectively over her torso, her slender hands clutching her shoulders in defense against some dream monstrosity Nny could not see. Her knees were crumpled to her chest, and he observed the gentle rise and fall of her shoulders as she inhaled, then exhaled.

Johnny blinked, realizing randomly that his housemate seemed much less vexing when she was in slumber. Well, of course Nny. She can't say anything when she is caught in the trenches of reverie, now can she? Yes, yes, she was like a corpse, crumpled together in the exact position of fear in which they died. The exact same pose they were in whilst their demise dawned upon them, or... well, something like that.

He had just whirled around on he heel of his boot and began progressing to step spider-like onto the doorstep, when he thought his ears caught something.

"Johnny..."

Once again, the male blinked, and turned his face to the right to face the thing that had muttered his name. Not to his immense astonishment, only the tell-tale silence answered him. He had lost Nailbunny quite awhile ago, and the Dough Boys were still hushed and nailed to the wall. That left only one possibility:

Once again, Nny turned around to regard the sleeping girl on the couch, who he noticed had tightened her fetal position, and hid her face from his view behind her knees. He felt his right optic twitch vaguely, the murmur echoing in his enigmatic black mind. _"Johnny... Johnny..."_

"_Johnny..."_

He wagged his head violently, and concealed his ears desperately, mentally ushering the verbal memory out of his head. Before he allowed Felix's whisper to crawl back into his ears. He darted quickly and inaudibly to the door, swung it open, and somehow managed to shut it swiftly with nothing more than a soft _click._

The atmosphere was smothered in crispy coolness that washed over his exposed hands that were still clamped onto the backpack straps. The cul-de-sac was ringing with silence, except for the cool breeze that occasionally whispered false truths into Nny's keen ears. The only light came from the radiating orbs screwed in the street lamps, where tiny specks of moths and flies circled it idly. The sky behind and above it was just a pure black, no stars dotting it's dark blanket, no violet clouds drifting into view...

Johnny breathed it all in, pleasantly glad to be out of the house once again. He glanced over his shoulder to his backpack to peer at it knowingly, and then released an insane, evil smirk.

Where should he go tonight? There were so many places that were open for twenty-four hours a day, but which one should he bestow havoc upon tonight? There was the dance club two blocks away, yes, yes... that was one possibility... But then there was that... _other_ dance club that was about six streets ahead, and was easily much more populated. But, then there was that Music Store right besides it, packed with cheerleaders wanting to listening to all of those damn boy bands... like, Who's-the-Skank and the Smite Strikes, or some rock band along those lines.

_((A/N: I'm sorry, my people, but I had to make fun of Hoobastank and the White Stripes. Yes, those were the two bands that I was indeed mocking. Don't get me wrong, I sold my soul to the White Stripes, so it's not like I hate them or something. Honestly, there's nothing that I have against them. But Hoobastank... That damn "The Reason" song was currently stuck in my head when I began the previous paragraph, so you might just have to deal with my not-so funny making-fun-of-ness of popular bands of today. I do that a lot now. And by the way, I am perfectly aware that neither of these two bands, Hoobastank and the White Stripes, are NOT boy bands. Peace out.))_

Yes that is exactly where he will sojourn tonight... he will go massacre every son of a bitch that just so _happened_ to be in Da Music Store...

Besides, most of them probably accomplished some grotesque deed that made them unworthy to live in his perspective. Yes, yes... Everybody seemed to be an asshole these days.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.--.-.-.-.-.-.-..--.-.-.-.-.-.-.----.-.-.-..-.-.-.-.-.-..-.-.-.-.-.-.-.—

About maybe... seven minutes later, Johnny found himself standing in front of the music depot, peering up at the filthy "DA MUSIC STOrE" indicator fused onto the top of the building. He tilted his head slightly, and let himself in. Perhaps he would not have to kill someone tonight after all. Maybe every animalistic human organism will just leave him in his typical solitude...

On the thin, papery grey mat of the floor (that rudely read WHAT DO YOU WANT?) after the entrance though, as these thoughts bubbled happily to the surface, immediately began sinking into doubtful, deep water again. No. No, no, no. There were perky, happy people here, and these perky happy people meant cheerleaders. And, everyone who came into close contact with Johnny, even for a temporary time, knew that in Johnny's mathematics, it was butcher knife plus cheerleader equals decapitated head on pointy metal bar.

Sighing, he sadly allowed his eyes to fall to his fascinating toes again, and watched them step forward with a gentle _clunk_ on the white tile floor. He looked up to the people surrounding him, and that habitual piss-me-off-and-you're-screwed half-smile reappearing once again. Some Goth was filing through the Hard Rock whilst his girlfriend was flipping through the different volumes of Nine Inch Heels. A group of girls in pink, lime-green, yellow and orange were standing in the third aisle, giggling and gossiping how the leader to Corn was so "hot." Away down the same row stood a nerd-like in yellow and green plaid, his elegant fingers shuffling for something that might express how much he hated everyone calling him dork.

Two aisles down, the one that Johnny himself was at the entrance of, at the very end stood two girls about maybe around Felix's age. One of them, the girl dressed in gray and black, looked up and giggled at the sight of him and whispered something to her companion, who was conveniently attired in ebony and white also.

The other girl whispered something, but her friend raised an inquisitive eyebrow, and replied, "So?" He heard the female that was eyeing him earlier scoff and observed her rolling her eyes. The smiled in a coy manner with her eyes directed his way again, her fingers delicately swapping the CD she desired. Her voluptuous smile expanded slightly as she strode down the aisle and waltzed past him into the General Bathroom behind him.

Annoyed with the wench, he grumbled something in low tones, something about "fucking low self-esteemed sluts and penguin beaks," smoothly fished the screwdriver he had pocketed earlier into his pocket for easy access. He readjusted the shoulder strap of his bag once again and sauntered off into the Classical section, just for the hell of it.

His eyes wandered from each old, wrinkled face of ancient composers but none of them, absolutely NONE of them was the one he was looking for. He already had a Beethoven CD, which he positively adored... but, what would there be to listen to? What be there that he _wanted_ to listen to? Pretty much all of today's music was unpleasant, and belonged in the garbage pail of horrible audio sounds. His gaze shifted to the familiar plastic cover of Beethoven, the composer's portrait glaring at him ambiguously.

Johnny smiled slightly at the sight of a duplicate of his favorite CD, and picked it up as if it were his own. He wasn't quite sure what he had done with the CD case anyways, but, he always had enjoyed Ode to Joy _((A/N: _(sniff) _Nny has the absolute greatest taste in music...))_

"Excuse me?"

He blinked, his neck erecting in alarm, his dark eyes narrowing in suspicious annoyance. Not another voice directed at him... not another female's little voice, please, not another teenager's voice... not an annoying voice.

Moderately he craned his neck around, eyebrow arched in immense provocation. It was that same damned girl who had practically tangoed (sp?) to the bathroom. His lip was pouted out at the sudden vexing girl behind him, who, just to annoy him even more, looked slightly eager about something.

"Can I help you with something?" He asked slowly but vigilantly. His skeletal hand clutched his backpack strap with an increasing grasp.

"Um..." She began, an obviously embarrassed grin breaking her semi-beautiful tan face. She hastily moved a strand of hair out of her eyes and giggled like a fucking, sluttish cheerleader in ebony. The little screwdriver in his pocket seemed to feel lonely... and Nny did not appreciate his loneliness at all. "Hi, um, what's your name?"

Despite the knowledge that she was flirting with him, an evil grin cracked across the homicidal maniac's face, allowing his head to tilt in false kindness. Rotating to the left in an angle where he ensured that she couldn't see his creeping hand to the hilt of his skewering weapon, his false smile expanded maniacally. "Nny," He greeted, tilting his head even farther, subconsciously aware that her friend had shaken her head in nark-ness _((A/N: Heh... Heh. I think I have a new favorite word. Heh, heh...)) _and had forsaken her companion to the blood hands of Johnny the Homicidal Maniac.

"Nny?" She inquired, giggling again. "That's a funny name... how do you spell it?"

Without answering, he sighed in great joy at this encounter. No, no, not the fact that he, Johnny, had run into her... but, the knowledge of foreshadowing his screwdriver lodged deep in the temple of her head. He fingered the concealed behind his bony back eagerly, silently cheering that tonight he was out of the house.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Thirty minutes later, our protagonist Nny stalked out of Da Music store, his triumphant face splattered with was unmistakably blood, and what looked like a fragment of cerebellum dangling off of the ends of a lock in his hair. He arched an eyebrow, and cackled to himself in satisfaction. Sighing once more, he glance his head around to judge his handiwork, and was disappointed to see that he could have done better.

The display window advertising the new releases of CD's was drenched in blood, and there was an eyeball caught in-between two CD cases. The blood-spurting arm was still sliding down the sand-created barrier, leaving a long streak of crimson liquid behind it. He had left the other surrounding civilians alone, clumped in cowering bands in the comforting corners.

He had to admit, though, that was indeed a pleasant kill. She was rather irking, after all. Some one as whorish as her didn't need to be strutting around anyways. She didn't deserve life anyways... Sighing, he turned around and outstretched a booted foot to progress forward into the night—

WHACK.

Before he realized what had happened, he saw a spin of light colors and felt himself falling like a struck-down tree, almost fell flat on his stomach, before his hands caught him in the nick of time about a centimeter above the concrete. Unfortunately, he still thumped his head lightly on the concrete, sadly affecting our hero to bite his tongue and gnash his back teeth together, grinding internally loud. Grumbling, he staggered himself onto his hands and knees, eyes shooting upwards in vengeance for what had struck him down.

There were two men, probably a couple of years older than he, striding past the spot that Johnny was inhabiting about ten seconds before, each of them cackling at Nny's "clumsiness." One of them pointed at his posture on the ground and chortled like a moron, and the poor victim had to observe the predators trotting off across the street.

Johnny shuddered in germnaizing anger at the typical treatment he received practically every time he dared leave his house. He laid his hands out in front of him a bit farther, heaving his lightweight off of his knees into a balanced stance. Swaying uneasily in his awkward foot adjustment, his ears caught something, a little...

_Clink._

_((A/N: I like onomatopoeia... can't you tell?)) _

He blinked at the random little noise, and dropped his eyes to the street ground immediately. It was his happy-face screwdriver that he had operated on that low-life girl in Da Music Store. It must have fallen out of his pocket when he was so cruelly knocked over to the ground. He knelt down and gently picked it up again. The hilt was freezing compared to the tip, which was warmed by the previously spilt blood.

Johnny bowed his head sadly, staring at the red-stained metal pole part of the screwdriver, gently turning it over in his fingers. Why didn't society just leave him alone? In public, what had he ever done to make humanity mistreat him so unduly? Why was he the subject to ridicule every desperate attempt to enjoy himself in reality? Why was he always the target when he needed to escape his prison of a house for the sake of his non-existent sanity?

Wait a moment.

Blood. Screwdriver. Asshole.

Johnny turned his head up in time to see the one of the assholes swing open a heavy metal door, and both animalistic organisms strutted into the place. His keen eyes traveled upwards until they fell on a title that read, "Disco Duck," the ultimate nightclub of Perky-People socializing. A duck in sunglasses was doing what looked like the disco... no doubt the pathetic insignia for the establishment. A devilish, insane grin extended over his face, hatching an uncanny arrangement for those two assholes...

But why only those two? That place was surely bound to be crawling with bastards, each of them tainted with cruelty, and a few of them must have had a negative introduction with Johnny at least once before. Besides that even, practically everyone whom Johnny had met turned out to be an asshole, now didn't they?

Even besides that, assholes couldn't be the only thing that he would find in that ridiculously loud dance club, now would they? Yes, yes, there were bound to be infested with bitchy teenage girls in there too, who would treat Johnny like shit... most of them, anyways... yes, but bitchy teenage girls meant cheerleaders!

Nny shuddered at this realization, and clutched the screw driver a little bit more tightly. Oh how he despised those perky pom-pom-waving wenches...

"They don't deserve it..." He whispered aloud, nearly embracing the screwdriver to his thin torso. The insane grin had grown dangerously long now, exposing almost every tooth in his maw. Taking no notice of a pedestrian as she screamed at him at the sight of blood, he, yet again, readjusted his backpack strap and darted to the entrance of the night club.

Characteristically (and somewhat dramatically), he without meaning to skittered into the shadows that the lamplight darkened in the corners. Through the heavy door, laughter and cheers could be heard... he wanted to be able to laugh at a joke, an experience that a friend had... he wished he had a friend... This sad desire dawning upon him he immediately morphed into anger, twisted, maniacal anger. They did not deserve the happiness that they were fortunate enough to obtain! Chuckling to himself, as he began a mental diagram on how to kill certain humans, he wrenched the door handle open, and casually slinked in.

Despite the two assholes knocking him to the ground, despite the flirtation device _((A/N: It's a term that I use for whores at my school.)) _that he had unassembled, he couldn't help but think as he drew out a dagger with his right hand, and crept up behind the asshole that had mistreated him, the dagger raised above to the base of his spinal cord:

_What a wonderful night... _


	4. Disturbance and Squee

Hi, people. Sorry that I haven't been able to be as active as I thought I would have been. I apologise. Um, I ish going to have to succumb to the abyss of slumber within then ext fifteen minutes so I ahve to make this speedy. Anyways, to answer my reviews:

**Aoi Neko-Chan:** A good chapter? Really? You-ish think so? ... I don't think so...I believe my writing skills could be alot better, especially in this chapter. But, your opinion, I have no say in your perspective... ooh! You actually think I'm keeping Nny in character? He seems really out of it in my point of view... oh well... critic, I guess, of my own work... Weeeee.... stay tuned for the next chapter and stuff!

**bosie boo:** Heh heh. Interesting username you picked there... heh heh, I'm probably going to go to school tomorrow, and all I am going to say is "Bosie Boo! Bosie Boo! Bosie Boo!" Yea, I really like the username. Nyah ha... thanks for the compliment! Like I said in the review for **Aoi Neko-Chan**, i think my writing skills could be a whole lot better than this... thanks for reviewing and stuff. Hope you all like it!

**Winstin: **Ooh... another anonymous reviewer person thingy! Anyways, thanks for the many compliments! And congratualtions! You are the fourth person in my lifetime that has even considered to stab/slit my throat/leg/abdomen! Good for you! You spelled intriguing wrong... sorry, but I had to say that really quickly. I don't mean to sound like a busy-body, or one of those perfectionists thingies, but yea... I just had to say it. Currently, I have no intention of making Felix into a Love Interest. In fact, I believe there will be some "Oh-I-Miss-Devi-So-Much" angst later on in the tenth or eleventh chapter... Yay! Another person who believes that I am skilled at keeping homicidal killers in character! This brings mild encouragement! I want a Twinkie to smoosh... You talk alot like me. Therefor, I give thee a biscuit.

**piewolvesandsuch:** Don't worry... for people like me (and you, apparently) blood vengeance has always made the twisted core of we blank vessels go "Whee!" I don't like it when it goes "Whee" though.. it hurts my chest. Anyways, thank you on the multiple compliments about the story... I think. Heh heh, kidding. But you have a pet tarantula!? Miss **piewolvesandsuch**, I envy you immensely!I want a tarantula, but my bloody cats would probably consume him before I even got to name it... anyways, if I ever got a tarantuala,it would probably name it Pez... I wuc those widdle candies... I like the candy dispensers even more... _(plays with Jack Skellington Pez Dispenser) _Nyah ha! Dear friend, thou hath madeth me feel special-eth! My work was actually GOOD enough to read aloud to a tarantula... and the arachnid enjoyed it! Ah... I feel so happy now. As a reward, you too, recieve a biscuit.

Here, poeple. Read the chapter, and have fun!

**

* * *

****CHAPTER 4:**

Felix Meets Squee 

_Meanwhile..._

It was much too early in the morning from Felix's point of view that morning... It seemed to seep pass her, and the tiny little ray of morning sunlight that peeped through a tiny crack of the boarded up windows didn't help her regain full consciousness at all.

At that cold morning... yes. It was actually cold outside. The uncharacteristically icy atmosphere was sending aero-messages to her exposed skin, affecting many chills down her spine. She was sat up in a proper sitting position on the flaky, flimsy couch, staring absent-mindedly at the floorboards. She was still so tired, she didn't even realize that there were crimson puddles caked smoothly on the floor, rust-flakes scabbed over tiny horrific metal instruments...

She blinked herself out of the daze as her head shot up suddenly in realization. It was much too quiet. Normally screams of triumph or agony were ringing around the walls at this hour... Yes, indeed, it was much too silent. She had been there long enough to know that something peculiar was up...

"Nny?" she called out, her voice crackling slightly from not being fully awake yet. "Nny?" she staggered to her feet, legs stiff from the crumpled position she had somehow found so comfortable the night before. "Johnny?"

Walking like a robot _((A/N: For all who have seen Invader Zim, she's mimicking the famous "Zim walk.")) _to the entrance of the corridor, she felt her top teeth clamp down on her bottom lip in growing nervousity. The corridors that morning seemed unusually long, and the vague golden rays of sunlight were casting ominous shadows in every corner were not making her exploration any more comfortable. Swallowing, she rounded around the corner speedily, half-expecting something horrifying to appear like in the clichéd horror movies. She blinked in surprise and even sighed solemnly in mild disappointment. It seemed that Johnny wasn't in the household at the moment, and was still out being all... Johnny-ish.

She was moving to wheel around towards the kitchen to make some toast, when her brown eyes caught something of immense interest; one of the doors at the far end of the hall, to her great curiosity, was creaked open slightly. Deciding that toast could wait a little while longer, she seized the opportunity for examination and crept cat-like down the corridor. Caution was still pricking at her nerves, though; she was constantly on her guard in case in Johnny leapt out of nowhere with some sort of large weapon as a sick joke.

That happened a lot.

She continued to edge down the hallways towards the entrance of the chamber, and ceased all movement at the doorframe. It was stained, she noted. She peered a little closer, to discover the flaws were a crusty brown-reddish hue, or perhaps even scarlet. _Paint?_ She though to herself, leaning in to observe it more clearly. _No. Johnny didn't paint. Berries? Wait a moment, Felix; they used berries for painting in the days of the Native Americans. Johnny isn't a Native American, now is he? But, now that one really thinks about it, it looks like bloo- _Her heart skipped a beat and she quickly shoved her fist in her mouth to stifle a scream when it suddenly dawned on her; _'twas lifeblood tainting the wooden doorframe._

Perhaps Johnny had quite a bit more to him that Felix first suspected. But... she slid her trembling fingers down the doorframe, half-aware that her ebony finger nails were chiseling away at the crusty reddish-brown scab that was splattered on the wood. She shook her head violently, swiftly withdrawing her hand from it. No. No, it was impossible. Johnny couldn't be a homicidal serial killer... he couldn't be! It was much too surreal! Perhaps Johnny wasn't even a murderer! Maybe there was an accident, and he forgot to clean it up afterwards or something or... paint! Perhaps Johnny really is a painter! A brilliant artiste gifted with the ability of many red hues!

But, conceivably, though, Johnny was a bit on the wacky side... perhaps Johnny was indeed inexplicably insane. The other night when she was returning from her sojourn to the bathroom, she had heard him arguing with himself softly, as if debating with someone that she couldn't see, perhaps someone she didn't want to see. But, if he wasn't crazy, who was he always conversing with? He was bickering with someone, constantly reminding the other being he wasn't enslaved to some things dubbed, "Mr. Eff and D-Boy."

Perhaps, they were other creatures that allowed Johnny's enigmatic little mind to visualize.

Felix was neutrally astonished to feel the corners of her drab lips turn down in a frown, as her gaze flickered back to the ajar barrier. Had she been smiling? What was so funny about an insane man whom she resided with that has probably murdered more than twice?

Worse yet, what had she been dreaming about the previous night? She knew she didn't like it; in fact, something had scared the hell out of her, but her conscience had refused to have woken into reality. She had forgotten all the events that had occurred in her reverie, she had lost memory to why she was in such a tight fetal position... just another nightmare, she supposed.

Sighing, she stroked her index finger against her thumb like a match to lose all of the crusty lifeblood beneath her fingernails. It was never healthy to have gore embedded in your finger orifices, now was it? Directing her full attention once more on the messy door, she allowed her gentle pale hand to shove it wide open. Her eyes widened, and she had to grit her teeth with all of her might to muffle a yelp of horror.

She tentatively edged on in to the chamber, her steel-toe boots _clunking_ as she rested her foot on the wooden floorboard. Dried blood was splattered all over the wooden floorboards, miscellaneous horrific weapons were littered here and there... mutilated little animals, unclassified destroyed stuffed animals, permanent markers, paper, crates collecting dust in uncanny, dark corners—

It was more frightening than a Fun House.

Everything made sense now... Johnny, the man whom she just so happened to live in the same household with, was a homicidal maniac. _((A/N I would bet you anything that half of the people who are reading this are probably saying, "No shit, Sherlock.)) _She was thunderstruck with herself when she realized that she was not as horrified as she expected herself to be.

But, in a way, this situation does sort of suck. If she got Johnny pissed off, she was more-than-likely to be screwed. And Felix doubted that Nny would ever be careless enough to just leave a few of his own torture instruments out for her to obtain and use for defensive reasons... her gaze shifted uneasily around the room at all the metal defense mechanisms skittered about on the floor, and chuckled nervously. But, even after _that_, the part that ultimately sucked was the half of the situation where she recalled that she had nowhere else to go, and living in a cardboard box at the end of the streets is not exactly the satisfying life style she was aiming for.

Grumbling at the outcome, she was daring enough to sidestep even further into the room towards the very center of it. After all, knowing Nny, he probably wouldn't return until noon. It was sort of a Johnny thing, she knew too well. After slinking to the base of the bloody room, she allowed herself to kneel down and study a few burgundy-blemished objects. After a great deal of time studying her habitat, she soon realized that the chamber was littered with what were unmistakably rag dolls. Many of the rag dolls were mutilated, of course. Some were chopped up in cotton-like fragments, others were dissected like happy evil frogs, and others with their face burned off, others strapped down by black and white yarn with their fluffy limbs missing. She swallowed down bile as her gaze hesitantly floated up towards the ceiling, her vision revealing the presence of a rag doll dangling directly above her head in rusty manacles.

Despite the immense horrific aura displayed around it, she couldn't help but chortle slightly as she observed its swaying in an invisible wind... the angle at how it just hung from the ceiling so bluntly, was sort of amusing. She couldn't help though but to swallow once again, and allow her eyes to drift back down to the other mutilated little animals. Across the room, there lay a different rag doll. To her immense surprise, it seemed... holy. Untouched, practically.

Tilting her head in curiosity, Felix allowed herself to fall onto all fours, and crawl cautiously in its direction. There had to be something wrong with it... it looked much too innocent. There had to be something morbid about its seemingly innocent smirk...

Once at the flank of the toy she ceased all movement, and bent over its tiny body for further examination. The toy seemed thoroughly normal... Her eyes narrowed suddenly in newborn suspicion. There was a miniscule drop of red on the pearly-white skin of the doll... With trembling fingers, she flicked a loose flap of doll-skin away, and somehow managed to fight bile down with her weedy throat muscles.

She suppressed a gasp, as she absent-mindedly leaned forward to observe her discovery more keenly. The gut of the doll was stuffed with what grotesquely resembled something like slimy bloodworms from South Texas, _((A/N: Nyah ha... That ish where I live... can't you tell by me supreme knowledge of wormy creatures of South soil? Nyah ha... why are you reading this? Get back to the story)) _Bexar County, each string of slime not twitching and gleaming disgustingly in the timid lamplight. Once she was sure that she would not vomit and leave traces that she had began snooping about, she leaned even closer at the doll's guts. Her brown eyes narrowed in realization. The "worms" were too thick to be actual maggots, so they must have been...

"Rat tails?" She mused curiously, wonder filling her rather than disgust. She blinked and looked back up to the humoring doll that was swinging slightly from the top of the ceiling.

This was so horrific, so Michael Myers-ish... it was much too morbid for her likings, yet her curiosity was strangely immense. She shuddered slightly, at the wet slapping sound with the moist cloth sticking to the rat tail's as she flicked the flap back over the exposed orifice. She swallowed back another rally of throw up, and felt a chill tingle up her spine once again, as she stated quite plainly but sickly:

"Johnny, you sick bastard."

As you can imagine, after seeing all of these horrors just lying about as if an aspect of a daily routine, she did not want toast as badly as she did before.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Ten minutes later, a deeply disturbed Felix had side-stepped out onto the front porch of House 777, hand on hips, happy pleasant grin extended over her face, and her brown-flavored right eye twitched occasionally.

Despite this obvious display of cheeriness, the teenager was ultimately scarred for life. Well, looking around the house a bit earlier, she had lost and regained half of her sanity, causing the cold, hard world to appear more beautiful and promising.

Oh, what a deceit that is.

She crossed _((A/N: I'm extremely hyper right now as I type this particle of the chapter, so bear with me if it sucks like a Twinkie. I don't like Twinkies... I don't like food in general... can't you tell?)) _her thin arms across her bony back though, and sat down on the porch steps, her happy expression immediately flipping over into a typical frown. _((Everybody seems to do that these days, don't they?)) _She had gotten so used to the knowledge of company being nearby, even if they are a homicidal lunatic... where the fuck was Johnny!?!

Loneliness beginning to corrupt the better of her, she crossed and embraced both lanky knees to her chest, eyelids half-open in despair. She needed something to keep her entertained... Elanor, her white puppet, was "asleep" in a small black box in the deep abyss of her ebony bag, and she was much too comfortable to shift out of her comfortable position in the base of the face of the house to go fetch her. Maybe there was somebody outside who could keep her company...

Her vigilant eyes zoomed about the cul-de-sac, gaze trying to latch onto a subject to accompany her and... she finally found it. A little boy was perched on the front steps of his own cement porch in the house besides Johnny's (she might be living there, but she still respected Johnny much too much to actually call the house _hers) _house was clutching a well-loved teddy-bear to his little chest, gaping eyeballs watching her intently as if he had seen exactly what she had about twelve minutes before.

Furrowing her brow in confuzzlement, _((A/N: I like that word, and I am perfectly aware that it's not an actual word registered somewhere in the depth-ish pages of Webster's Bloody Dictionary! Sue me.)) _She unlocked her arms from her knees and rocked back and forth on her heels in that little position of hers, and finally managed to rock gracefully onto her feet into a balanced stance. She tilted her head in a friendly manner and a smile stretched across her pale features, as she softly meandered herself down the sidewalk until she was merely two yards from the small boy.

"Hello," She greeted kindly, her gentle grin stretching a bit farther.

The boy's optics expanded even more, and to Felix's slight sadness, she observed how his fingers sunk in a couple of centimeters deeper into his teddy bear. Before she could question him of his condition, he did something that she did not expect:

"Squeeeee..." he squeaked in immense trepidation, using his little bear as a shield in front of his little face.

Felix tilted her head a little farther, and dared herself to creep a little bit closer to the fellow organism. But every small step she took, it seemed to intimidate him further and further into a feeble crouch on the concrete rung. She found her cranium tilted even a bit further, and passively crossed her arms behind her back. "Are you alright?" She asked gently, kneeling a little about a sidewalk square away, concern painted on her pale face.

"You live with the Scary Neighbor Man..." he whispered hoarsely, his already puny pupils somehow managing to decrease even more in size. "You live with the Scary Neighbor Man, don't you?"

"Scary Neighbor-?" she began, thoroughly confused. Then it hit her; of course! The little boy was of course talking about Johnny! But, this little boy had labeled him as... the Scary Neighbor man? Well, she had to admit, Nny was a little bit scary, which she had found out today... But, has Johnny psychologically scarred this little one as well? _((A/N: I use the word "little" very often in this paragraph...))_

A helpless sigh escaped past her pale lips, and she propped an elbow on her knee, resting her head comfortably tilted head in her skeletal palm. "Yes," she responded, sounding almost regretful as her smile wilted slightly at the corners. "But, believe it or not, the Scary Neighbor Man is very nice, or... he is to me, anyways..." She blinked at her ranting, and randomly shot her gaze up towards the heavens, a wondering expression masking her features.

"Are you crazy, too?"

Her sky-cast gaze had abruptly plummeted like an anvil back into reality, back onto the little boy, his overly-large eyes still peering directly at her behind the teddy bear. It was not necessarily the question that had brought her back from her temporary reverie, but it was how out of place his frightened little voice seemed to be, especially on such a lovely afternoon. "pardon me?" She asked, ensuring that she had heard his inquiry crystal clear. _((A/N: Dyah, I despise that evil phrase...))_

"Are you crazy?" the little boy asked once again, ignoring the fact that he had abandoned the word "too." That comforted Felix somehow. She wasn't too sure exactly how, but, in a weird way, it was comforting.

"I think I'm actually pretty normal," She admitted honestly, a sincere smile taking its place once again. "But," She put her hand out to shake, but to her great discomfort the little squealing boy cringed from the gesture of the pleasant greeting. She blinked, not exactly too sure to be offended, amused, or guilty for reflecting such a reaction on such a young soul. Withdrawing her fingers back vaguely but allowing her slender hand to linger in the air, she continued, "My name's Felix. What might yours be?"

His eyeballs shrunk faintly but there was still a quivering wariness in his gaze. "My name's Todd," He replied almost inaudibly, watching her outstretched limb instrument with grand suspicion.

Seeing as the little boy, or, as said, "Todd", had no intention of shaking her hand, she sighed while biting back the mighty need to frown at his paranoia. She sighed again, and rested her arm on her knees besides the other limb. Her gaze was then locked onto the stuffed bear creature he seemed to rely on so much for his protection against society. She habitually tilted her head in a matter in which one might call casual. "Who's your little friend there?" She asked kindly, her friendly expression increasing once again at the corners of her mouth.

Felix noted how his eyes darted from her to the overly-loved teddy bear in his grasp for a couple of seconds, then he looked directly back to her; "Shme..."

"Hmmm?"

"Shem..."

"Hmmm?"

"Shmee!" he squeaked a tiny little bit louder, holding the teddy up a bit so she could see him a little better.

This time though, she chuckled. Todd's reactions were immensely amusing. "May I see Shmee?" She asked, careful not to lose the edge of her soft voice.

Her smile seemed completely honest and sincere, and her posture was not of a threat in which she could grab some sort of defense mechanism or something. Maybe this girl was not like the Scary Neighbor Man after all... Though something was whispering to him that she might not be exactly faultless as she was to the unwise eye... but, of course, it could just be his ever-growing paranoia.

Though somewhat reluctantly, he lifted his little bear titled Shmee a little further out for her to take. Smiling, Felix obtained him delicately as if Shmee was the only little bear of his kind. She studied the teddy bear, staring from the vaguely morbid stitches that were sewn into the middle of his too-happy expression on his bear-like face. She chortled and swayed slightly in her crouching position.

For a moment, Todd, or, as we Jhonen Vasquez fans know him, Squee was afraid that she might react the exact same way that Nny did in his first encounter. Screaming and cursing and cussing at the top of his lungs, he began accusing the bear of calling him critical names and labeling him insincerely.

But, she merely laughed softly as she had a couple of times before, and held Shmee out to Squee willingly. "He seems like a good little friend for you, Todd," She said She stated truthfully, taking her tilted head out of her palm. She sat back finally, her knees beginning to ache for being in such an uncomfortable position, outstretching her thin legs thankfully and propping her arms behind her to support her in sitting up.

Todd did not even realize it, but a faint smile cultivated on his little face, though unfortunately it wasn't visible behind the stuffed bear-bear. Maybe there _was_ someone besides Shmee, Nny, and Pepito who could be classified as companionable.

_Heh. That would be wonderful... _Todd's iris swooped down to Shmee. _Wouldn't it, Shmee?_

* * *

Yes, yes people. i do realize that it sucked. Leave me and my terrible suckiness alone...

Anyways, before I depart, I must announce something:

I'm planning on doing a Thanksgiving one, starting on Saturday to Monday (perhaps Tuesday), so, yea. I hope you people will enjoy immensely.

Another thing: this story will only contain TWENTY CHAPTERS. Only twenty. Sorry, people, but already have ideas for the next Johnny fic. It'll be a SEQUEL! Nyah ha...

That is, if you people continue loving my story. Anyways, one more thing, then I am definetly through:

Today is my father's birthday, and I would just like to randomly throw biscuits and everybody who just so happens to read this and chuck burning candles at my bloody, stupid relatives living in Northern Texas. My dad is turning thirty five (35, for those people who cannot read. Why they would be on this website, I don't know, but anything can happen), and I ish so happy, and stuff... although it just means Death is ever nearer... nyeh, ignore me.

That's all. wait next time for the next chapter, or look out for my Thanksgiving Fic! See you all later!

.::.:.::AnathA::.:.::.


	5. Secrets Revealed and Tacos

**Sorry** guys that it's been such a long time since I've updated anything, sorry! I've been on vacation (a.k.a. HELL RIDE) to northern Texas to spend the Thanksgiving holidays with my hill-billy cousins and relatives from my mum's side of the family. Despite the fact I never got to finish anything for the story, never finished a bloody paragraph of my book (Dracula, by Bram Stoker), and that I was on thebrink of insanity with my shitty yougner masculine cousins. I'm okay now... thank you, My Chemical Romance.

Time to answer peoples! Yay! Here I go:

**invader tom: **Yes, we all love Squee, don't we my dear? Tee hee... nyah ha! I'm freakishly hyper, despite how late it is here, where I sit and type and you are probably reading. Anyways, yes, I love Squee too... though I personally have to say I'd rather get down on all fours in a dog colalr and leash for le Anti-Christ... hoorah for Pepito! Neee... And, I think Shmee's cute. Once you look past the whole deicving, pushing Todd to the brink of insanity and the whole "Set them on fire!" thing, he's adoreable! No, I'm not morbid, I'm just a little girl who likes tedyd bears. Nyah. But yes... HE DOESN'T SPEAK LIES... alright, to Nny he does, but... thaz not le point! Anyways,I hope you're enjoying this! Tune in for later stuffs, please!

**QOTSAfreak: **Interesting penname... mind I ask what it stands for? Nuuu!... I ish glad that you seem to like this so much... and YES! Everybody loves chainsaws, chainsaws to every humanoid who has ever been called a freak!Ah yes, that would be entertaining... nyah ha... anyways, be here laterz!

**icekweem23: **Nuuuuuuuuuuuuuu! This is the point where I become freakishly flamboyant and mentally skip handing everybody dead carnations! Do you have any idea how special I feel that I am on my favorite author's "Favorite Authors" list? I know I sound like one of those damn fangirls for Johnny Depp or something, but still... I am freakishly flattered. Chee! Felix is wuvable? Though I haffta say, no matter what reviews I get, I'm probably always going to see my writing as a piece of crap... especially this chapter... nuu... I'm poetic? That's new, I suppose... I feel so speshell now... tee hee... yes, I spelt it that way on purpose. Calculations! In-characterness! I feel so special... I feel like I can fly right now... but that wouldn't good, 'cause I'll probably get hit with a rogue jet or something... that's never good, I suppose. I have made a friend! Though, I wouldn't blame him for being scared right now as he read this, but yes! Another Beethoven fan! Hooray for the Ninth Symphony! _(sway sway) _Yes, Beethoven is a God... a dead God, but, a God nonetheless. I've seen your writing skills, you would do freakishly well if you wrote a JTHM fic! In fact, that would be immensely kick-ass... No, rants are always valued on the reviews. It gives me something else to respond to, and that allows me to stay up longer. Yay... I hope your holiday was well, and tune in for more please! By the way, your Mr. Gosh Angsty Poem was awesome... I printed it off and hung it on my wall. I feel like such a bloody fangirl... I go mentally crucify myself for punishment of sinking so low.......

**Lady-night-shade04: **Don't worry, honey, alot of people have been looking for it. I now how egotistic that sounds, but, yes, there have been previous humans who've been searching for it, so, yea. You read the Thanksgiving one!? Yay!... And, I'm glad to be back, thanks for the welcome-back thing. Yay! Although this reality is already freakishly insane, even if I'm not here to help it... nuu. I'll tell my dad that one of my reviewers said happy birthday, thanks! He won't ahve a clue what I'd be talking about, but I'll tell him anyways!

Thanks you guys, this is most excellent... although my dad's pissed. Maybe that birthday greeting from **Lady-night-shade04** will improve his bitter mood...

Enjoy the crappiness, my people!

**

* * *

**

**CHAPTER 5:** Secrets Revealed and Tacos 

Drenched in gore and what was unmistakably lifeblood, Nny swayed to the mental hymn of _Ode to Joy_ in the backseat of a yellow taxi that had just so happened to be hovering in patient wait before the entrance of that horrible night club. He held his bag in newborn reassurance, thinking over the previous events, swaying to the melody of Beethoven in his enigmatic little head. He felt so special at the moment, and his unique sensation was only just as immense because he had received a free ride with which he absolutely deserved for his deeds of exterminating unworthy souls of the animal-like humanoids. Oh, how special he felt…

But of course, as we, the authoress and the reader probably both know, this was not as satisfying to the driver, who was situated in a less-than-insane perspective. The true story is what we are all looking for, after all. The fact was that he was being driven all the way from the vile night club to his cul-de-sac because he had swiftly slaughtered a man before the driver's naked eyes, and the lanky man had threatened to replace his bowels with pudding cups if he did not get to House 777 by 7:30, by paying less than five dollars.

Heh... All that matters though is that in Johnny's perspective, he was indeed very special. Special enough to receive a free ride home! _((A/N: Hooray for free rides!))_

Finally, the dandelion-hued vehicle slowed to a pleasant halt in front of the face of the shack-like home of Jonathan Colt. He pushed the car door open, whistling along with the internal beat of classical instruments while shooting a sharp glance around his shoulder to ensure that all of his possessions (including that helpful, inspiring little screwdriver) were located safely in the pockets of his bag. He chuckled as he recognized the weight of his knapsack _((A/N: Jesus, I despise that word…)) _while idly readjusting the strap one last time. He tilted his head and inclined his neck stiffly to the right to catch better sight of the ashen-faced driver.

"Um, I apologize for the whole, er… 'Gutting your bowels out and replacing pudding cups' scenario," he expressed, somewhat oblivious to how the man's features managed to pale even more. "But, I needed a ride home quickly, so, I've decided that I should give you at least a ten doll-"

"Keep it!" the driver gasped, horrified expression pearlier than ever. Before Nny could politely argue against his statement, he had slammed the door shut, his Harley Davidson boots were pinning the gas pedal down, and the yellow vessel was already zipping away down the street.

Johnny sighed. He honestly needed to work on his people skills…

He stood there for a moment, head titled up to admire the light blue sky that was so moderately fading into cerulean to an appealing hue of violet, signaling twilight's coming. There were absolutely no clouds drifting lazily in the heavens that day, or, technically, soon-to-be night. Suddenly, a realization reaped into the back of his mind: How long had he been out? Say, he had left at about maybe one-thirty, or two o' clock A.M. last night, and it had to be about six or seven o' clock right now, shouldn't it?

Choosing to ignore these realizations, he once more altered the position of the backpack strap once again over his bony shoulder, his lanky form slinking sneakily to the entrance of his domain. His skeletal fingers latched around the doorknob as he gently shoved it open, squinting his right eye at the irking groans of the aged hinges.

To his genuine astonishment, his first sight was a vacant couch, instead of the pale figure of Felix. He half-expected her to be perched there watching television, or to be laying on the couch napping, perhaps even hear her boots scuffling across the kitchen floor as she was attempting to make toast. But no… she wasn't in sight range, as far as he could tell.

Dropping his bag his backpack with a faint _clunk _echoing off of the messy floorboards, Johnny meandered across the untidy chamber just in case if she was there… not to his immense surprise, he saw she wasn't hiding herself.

He inclined his head to the right slightly, left eye twitching occasionally (yet spontaneously). She could not have gone that far… after all, her black bag which she seemed to value so immensely was lying _right_ there on the crumbling arm of his sofa. Sighing, he sat himself down on one of the flimsy cushions, his slender fingers massaging his eyelid-veiled optics. The Doughboy's were not whispering in his head, not that they had been for quite a while, but, still… Nailbunny, who was also isolated in silence, was quiet as Reverend Meat was… basically, he had nothing essential to do for the time being, and there were no distractions… Finally, he had been rewarded with the well-deserved peace and—

"Hello, Johnny!"

Quiet.

The pleasant circles that were massaging over his eyelids immediately ceased their circling, as he allowed both of his hands to drop completely upon his bony knee. He allowed one eyelid to whip open, the retina swiveling around to catch Felix's pale head poking around the corner cartoon-like, a soft smile playing on her face. Perhaps, _too _soft of a smile…

"Hullo, Felix," he greeted somewhat stiffly, titling his head so hers was in more of a typical angle.

"Where were you?" she inquired with what seemed to be genuine curiosity, gliding around the corner to sit a little away on the ground. She blinked innocently. "You were gone when I woke up, and all afternoon… where were you?"

Nny blinked, suddenly recalling how she had randomly murmured his name in her what did not seem to be very peaceful slumber. That previous memory still disturbed him greatly. He sighed, and rocked his light weight into a standing stance. "I went for a walk," he answered somewhat casually, crossing his arms behind his back.

Felix arched her thin eyebrow doubtfully as she leisurely curled her thin legs closer to her body and embracing them to what seemed to be a comfortable posture for her. "You went for a seventeen-and-a-half hour walked covered in lifeblood?" she asked doubtfully, very well keeping her voice from quivering in newborn fright.

That statement had ultimately caught him off guard. He blinked, and glanced down at his apparel before sitting back in his former perch on the sofa, and relieved a long, deep sigh. He had completely failed to recall the lifeblood that was splattered all over his Z? Shirt and he suddenly commemorated that a fragment of cerebellum was clinging a lock of his raven hair. Grumbling slightly at himself for not doing anything about it before he had returned home, he shifted a malicious eye to the girl, whose position had tightened a wee bit more.

He was not entirely sure how to respond to not only the unexpected statement, but to also why she was not reacting the typical way that most humanoids did when they learned this darker side of the homicidal character. She was inexplicably calm (almost annoyingly calm), though he could have sworn that he caught a shiver racking her body gently as she forced her gaze upon him with steady eyes. Her mouth was pursed into a thin, evidently nervous line, her brown-eyes narrowed not only with suspicion, but also for the purpose of hiding the obvious gleam of fear twinkling in the center of her eyes.

"I looked around the house, for once," she explained somewhat quietly, abruptly cutting off the awkward (and slightly ominous) silence. Finally averting her gaze to some minor horror laying somewhere in the room, she continued, "I think I have finally seen everything when I see rotting limbs decaying in the washroom while they dangle and sway morbidly from their rotting fingers above the bath tub…"

Johnny tilted his head while listening to her proclamation. _Those things are still there? _He mused silently to himself, blinking.

He leant slanted his position forward to conceal his creeping right hand, which was so sinisterly seeking out the metallic zipper of his backpack. Silently, his skeletal fingers were clipped over it like a pair of sturdy pliers as he inaudibly began to unzip it. "Hmmm… why did you not call the police?" he asked, internally skipping with glee that his voice ruled over the bag zipper.

"I was afraid to call for help," Felix responded honestly, glimpsing at him again. Some of the fear that was previously dancing in her irises, he noted, had dissolved. Not enough though to cease her occasional shudders, unfortunately. "And, well, I knew that you would recognize it as my doing anyways, so… what point is there?"

His progress of receiving the knife had slowed slightly, but he continued interrogating her anyways. "Why didn't you run away?"

"There was no one and nowhere to go, except home… and I don't have enough money to keep me from becoming a hobo before I got to my parents' house."

"Hmmm…" Johnny took his limb instrument completely away from the bag, head inclined to the right in wonder. She was not lying, he could tell that much; her retinas were twinkling and unblinking _((A/N: I had no intention to make that rhyme slightly. Sorry…)),_ an almost-sure symptom of honesty. She was terrified of him, he noted casually, and of course she was aware of what he truly was now… but, she was still annoying tranquil about it, or seemingly tranquil.

Felix studied him carefully, managing somehow to withdraw her thin legs even closer to her body. This was it… she could definitely tell by his skeptical expression that her demise was near, that the Reaper himself was probably lifting his Smiting Scythe aimed at the base of her spinal cord, or to her jugular vein… Johnny will sweep out his screwdriver, or dagger or some sharp instrument and end her life, she knew it… She swallowed sadly, mentally whispering Goodbye to the material world, turned her head over onto her cheek upon the surface of her knees, patiently waiting for freedom…

"So, what did you do all day while I was gone?"

She blinked. Immediately all fear washed away from the newly dumbfound female. She blinked again. "Eh?" she asked dumbly, continuing her surprised quick eye movements.

"What did you do today?" Nny replied, rising to his feet once more.

Daring not to question why he had not lashed an invited Death upon her doorstep _((A/N: Nyah, strange personification…)), _she swallowed back some of the saliva that had built up in her throat through nervousity, and shrugged limply. "I made friends with the little boy next door," she answered, still somewhat astounded that she was not slaughtered. "The boy, Todd, you know--"

Johnny tilted his head and looked over his shoulder with a maniacal grin stretched across his features. "Squee?" he said, cackling with immense amusement.

"I guess so," she replied slowly, arching a brow questioningly.

There was an awkward silence.

Finally, with Nny's insane grin the only lively aspect in the melancholy chamber, Felix suddenly broke the silence once more. "Are you hungry?" she inquired randomly, still watching him interestedly.

"Not really," Johnny sighed, maniacal gaze shooting upward towards the ceiling lamp. "Well, actually… no, yes, no… wait, yes, no, wait, hmmm… well…"

"I was thinking that I could go out and get us some tacos from Taco Hell or something," she half-suggested, half interrupted while straightening her legs out in front of her and leaning back on her supporting, thin arms to heave her up onto her feet.

She had just got herself into a proper balanced standing stance and was in position to skip over to the couch to receive her yellow-black jacket, but was once again surprised when the unpredictable Nny was already striding towards the front door. "I'll get them," he volunteered, his tone ringing with uncanny cheerfulness, sending a chill of uneasiness up the girl's back.

"Ya sure?" Felix asked uncertainly, once again stricken dumb.

"I'll be back later," he said conclusively, and before Felix could reply, the crusty door had clicked behind him, and the sounds of his muffled boots clumping down the concrete pathway soon faded away.

Once again, she titled her head, not too sure of what had just happened. She had discovered the truth to the morbid Johnny, the guy she lived with and whom just so happened to be a homicidal maniac. She confessed, and was waiting for her non-existent death-wish to be fulfilled, but instead, was greeting with a casual interrogation. Interesting conclusion…

She blinked, and sat back onto a lumpy cushion of the couch, twitching slightly. She knew she was going to lose her sanity eventually… this sucked. With trembling fingers, she fumbled for the remote and clicked the red power button, watching the black screen of the idiot box swirl with color again. "I'm not safe here," she croaked, cupping a hand to her forehead.

Suddenly a random realization popped in the back of her little mind. "Won't the Taco Hell dude notice the gore on his clothes though?" she mused to herself, tilting her head at the creep aspirin commercial.

* * *

I hope you guys enjoyed it. Drop a review. Bye guys, I'll try to update the Thanksgivingo ne! Bye!

.::.:.::AnathA::.:.::.


	6. Diary Entry 1

Wow. I'm updating this alot more quickly than I suspected I would have. Oh, well.

Nyah ha, I shall reply to my beautful reviewer peoples! Chuu chuu ku...

**invader tom: **Well... that was an interesting dialouge scene thing. yes... waidaminute, MY SQUEE! _(huggles squee and steals him away from you... not necessarily in that order) _Nyah ha... everybody loves Squeegey... All three of the kids have nickanes like that: One's Squee, the other is squeegee, and the other one is Squeegum... Fwee... Invader Tom, you remind me of one the people that I RP with on The World... different website, don't ask. You remind me of someone, I just can't place the bleeding name... Nyah, never mind. If I think any deper in this weary state of mind, I believe I might pass out right here at my computer terminal. Stay tuned! I think you're enjoying it...

**piewolvesandsuch: **My opinions on my suckatcular writing skills are actually somewhat amusing and fit in without vexing any soul out there? o.o Wow. That was dramatically stated. Anyways, thanks for liking my rather annoying Anatha Notes (no, not Authors Notes, _Anatha's_ Notes)... You wouldn't ahve to suck in your breath and turn blue like a smerf then flop over and decease from this mterial world just because I had forgotten to insert pathetic criticisms on my own work. That would kind of suck... having one of the best reviewers for this Fic suddenly flipping over dead would immensely suck... but my Anatha Notes are actual wuvved by someone who is not my magical monkey plushie dubbed Reki... nyah ha, I'm so happy now.

**icekweem23: **Oooh... you reviewed again, meaning I'm still appreciated. Yes, I know I'm another bloody fangirl, and I am not oblivious to the factor that I mentioned it in my reply from the last chapter, but thaz not le point... and I don't blame you for being frightened. Fans can frighten everyone, can't they? Until Johnny stabbed your eyes and made you devour them on a barbeque stick? Why can't I think of something creative like that? My creativity lacks in homicide situations... nyah, I feel so... outcast-like... dun dun dun dun... BEETHOVEN! Well,I do think my writing's crap. It is! Well, I suppose it kind of has to be... I'm only twelve years old and inexplicably stupid, I'm not suppose to have writing talents, or anything like that. The only good thing thatI can do with a bloody mechanical pencil is draw a detailed stick fugure, and even that sometimes sucks. But, yes, your positive reviews still make me feel like flying... yet maneuvering in time when a jet zips by in homicidal attempts of deceasing my being. o.o But as I said before in my previous reply, yes, you should write a Johnny fic! You have the proper writing skills/talents/creativity/homicidal perspective(I envy you, human) to write a marvelous fanfiction of our protagonist, Nny! I' ish looking forward to it in the future... I never thought anyone would ever describe Felix as motherly though... I never thought of that. But, yes,I found out that it isn't easy living with someone like Johnny at all...I had to spend a week with my hill-billy cousins. They took football way too seriously... I am looking forward to your fic, and I ish pleased that you ae... er, pleased with the storyline so far!

**di: **I am not so sure how to respond to your... response, but I'm just going to say, "Tune in for this chapter and review for the next one."

Nyah,I ish half-asleep as I post this... and I'm probably going to be sleeping when you read this introduction and chapter. So, if it sucks, pin the blame on the string of insomnia that has been dreadfully shadowing my sleeping patterns... nyah. Well, enjoy! ...

_

* * *

_

_Diary Entry #1_

Felix had almost screamed an obscene curse word when the run-down, shitty door of House 777 flung open to reveal a maniacal, grinning Johnny framed in the entryway. He was still coated with dried lifeblood that had scabbed over his clothes, his crimson-stained hand clutching a large white paper bag with the wind bearing the aroma of Mexican goodness throughout the household. She tilted her head though, subconsciously clicked the red power button on the remote control and leaned forward to observe tiny reddish-brown blots on the bag, close to where his skeletal fingers were gripping. She blinked, hoping it wasn't what she suspected it to be, and inquired, "What did you get?"

"Four tacos," Nny began, opening the bag a little bit to ensure his answer accurately. "A burrito and half of a quesadilla!"

She inclined her head farther to the right. _Only_ _half? _She mused silently, blinking. "Half a quesadilla?" she repeated verbally, her gaze projected directly towards the bag. "Why only half?"

"You see," Johnny stared, crossing his arms behind his bony spine, which resulted the Taco Hell bag to be concealed. "When the cashier woman gave me our order, she commented on my appearance. Someone so questionable and stereotypical was surely undeserving of such a bliss customarily known as _life_, and—"

"I don't want to hear anymore!" Felix interjected loudly, clamping her slender hands over her ears frantically. She had been scarred enough already, and most definitely she did not need any more homicide tales to reap her once peaceful reveries. Sighing, she glanced back up to Nny (whose lips was pouted out in grand annoyance), climbed back to her feet from the sofa, and daringly took a step towards him. "You killed this cashier woman, didn't you?"

Johnny blinked. The sudden crinkling of paper announced to the girl that his grip on the Taco Hell bag had increased vaguely, leaning forward slightly to what she could have presumed (in alarm) to be a menacing stance. "Silently labeling me a 'faggot' _((A/N: Yes. I am twelve years old and I already know these words, I go to a trouble middle school where everybody's… frightening. Dun-dun-dun-dun-dun… leaves me alone. Nuu!)) _--and commenting on my typical appearance is not exactly appeasing, so—"

But quickly, Felix had cut him off.

"You used the other half of our meal, the bloody quesadilla to kill the cash register lady!?" she exclaimed, half amazed, half horrified. "How the hell did you manage to murder somebody with half of a bloody quesadilla…!?"

"You know what happens when something large is lodged into the essential wind pipe to the very pit of your lungs while the tips of the Mexican meal slice at the internal organs, yes?"

"Yes."

Silence.

Felix blinked. "I honestly wished I had not asked," she muttered dreadfully, hardly audible for the homicidal Johnny to catch. Looking more closely though at the Taco Hell take-out bag as Johnny pinned his arms habitually to his sides once again, the small blobs of red were splattered still… it was unmistakable she realized, swallowing back bile once again. 'Twas most definitely gore. Her bottom lip jutted out in disgust but mostly fright, and her brow was furrowed in yet typical confusion. "Perhaps, I'll eat some other time," she suggested, nodding slightly as if she were agreeing with herself. Yep, that might be the safest thing to do…

Oh, how wrong she was…

Johnny's eyes expanded dramatically as her statement fully sunk in, his right optic twitching characteristically. His posture was suddenly more erect, and his eyelid continued its typical writhing helplessly. Before the female could ask if his condition was alright (and normal), he had cried out in what seemed to be exasperation and tremendous rage, "YOU MADE ME GET TACOS FOR NOTHING!?!"

Her eyes widened. "Johnny, I never made you do any—"

"I WENT OUT, GOT INSULTED, MURDERED, BARELY ESCAPED FROM THE MODERATORS OF THE INSANE ASYLUM WHILST WASTING HALF OF A PERFECTLY GOOD QUESIDILLA, JUST SO YOU CANNOT CONSUME A FUCKING PIECE OF IT!? SHIT!"

"Nny, I volunteered to get it, remem—"

"YOU SPEAK LIES, VILE CHILD OF DECEIT! DISPICABLE LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEESSSS!"

"I'LL EAT IT, FINE! I'LL EAT THE DAMN TACO! PLEASE, DON'T DO ANYTHING DRASTIC, I'LL EAT THE DAME TACO!!"

Johnny ceased his screaming, panting vaguely, but his spine slumped slightly in relaxation. "Really?" he said, tilting his head innocently at the scarred Felix It was so hard to believe that he was screaming at her just seconds before…

Felix twitched vaguely and slowly shuffled backwards to retrieve her black bag. "I'm going to go to my room, and enjoy my tacos," she informed him hoarsely, her mouth still dry with fright. "I will eat my tacos, I promise…" Her voice was noticeable still vibrating with shock at the thought of her yet again nearly shaking hands with her demise. "Please, just don't ki—"

Already knowing what she was going to so frantically implore, the homicidal maniac bowed his head solemnly and crossed his bony arms behind his spine. He slunk out of the chamber to the neighboring, unoccupied room, the bloodstained taco bag dropped to the ground in mid-meander. He was much too used to see that dreadful twinkle in an organism's eye when his aura was in range, those much too familiar words, "I promise, just don't kill me." How many of his victims had ever implored to him but had end up dead anyways? Almost every single one of them, he supposed… he had no intention on killing her, well, at least not at the moment anyways.

People make way too many presumptions of the poor vessel.

She observed Johnny slink into the neighboring room, and sighed, a pang of guilt strumming her heart strings like a melancholy guitar. She released another confused sigh, bent down and snatched up the taco bag and retreated down the hallway towards her room.

Skulking down the hallway, she hastened her already quick pace past the chamber that Johnny currently inhabited. Out of the corner of her eye as she zipped by though, she had caught a brief glimpse of Johnny scribbling something down in what appeared to be an ebony diary. She blinked as she slowed her pace slightly; a random thought occurred the back of her head. Did Johnny keep a diary? Did most homicidal maniacs keep a diary? _((A/N: _(hides journal) _Yes…))_

Dismissing the thought with a wag of her head, she turned the corner to enter her room, ducking her head as she let the taco bag fall to the floorboards and pull her side-bag off and onto the ground besides it. "Why didn't I sleep in here last night?" she murmured to herself, surprised that she had not.

The room she had taken? Johnny had allowed her one of the less-used rooms of his little shack-of-a-house, and she was delighted when he gave her consent to decorate it the way she would have liked. There was hardly anything in it, but she managed to bargain herself a flimsy mattress she had purchased at a garage sale down the street, and for free was thrown in a thin-layered gray blanket to cover it. It did not bother her though; she was naturally patient and accepting, so, she thought it better to have something shitty to keep her warm instead of nothing. That was always better, now wasn't it? She was somewhat disappointed though that there were no windows installed in the depressingly blank white walls. She always liked looking outside… but, no one can receive all of the things that they desire, so, 'twas yet another thing to deal with and not complain about. The floorboards were of course there, and the constant scuttling of her vessel retreating back and forth upon the dust-laden ground had imprinted boot prints here and there where she had stepped. One night when Johnny was out (killing people, Felix now predicted), she had decided to explore the kitchen for pleasure and found a drawing in one of the many drawers. It seemed to be an angry stick figure with a few hairs, someone whom Johnny must have spawned from his enigmatic, twisted mind. At the bottom, in sloppy bubble letters, was printed, "HAPPY NOODLE BOY." It was ironic to the young girl, though, for the stick man seemed did not seem very happy at all. Anyways, she had found a thumbtack in an abandoned desk in the room next door and had thumb tacked it to the wall besides the doorframe. If it were not for this angry-looking noodle-man, her bedroom walls would have been completely uneventful.

Felix picked up her tacos, and plopped herself down a creaky mattress, the springs inside of it squeaking dangerously beneath her lightweight. She was relieved when she accounted all of her tacos to be free of blood and gore, and withdrew one from the taco trench of the Taco Hell bag. Who the hell was she kidding earlier? She loved tacos, and after uttering such taco blasphemy about losing her appetite—that will be the day when aliens abduct little Todd next door for experimenting after tricking two other idiotic aliens into thinking he was a Batman plushie. But, Johnny seemed to hardly eat… she offered him consumables multiple times, and multiple times he had politely refused. It sort of worried her…

Shrugging her vague worries away once again, her brown eyes glanced to the corner of her mattress. It was a green 70 page college ruled notebook, with .:: FeliX ::. scribbled in white-out for the cover title. Sighing, she crunched a good, healthy hunk out of the bottom-left corner of her taco, and obtained her cerulean mechanical pencil that was lying helplessly besides the mattress, awaiting its time for usage.

It was her dairy, of course. Most of the humanoid beings of the feminine half of the race had at least one in possession. So why would she be in different? She was like every other girl or woman out in the world; she needed something to jot down her ridiculous, silly thoughts, her miscellaneous ideas and feelings, the past day's events, didn't she? Just like everybody else…

_Well, that answers my question to why Johnny has a diary, I suppose, _she thought idly, allowing her skeletal finger to flip a dog-eared page. _I think._

With that last thought in her head, she clicked her thumb to the eraser of the mechanical pencil, and began to scribble down a brief memorandum.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

_**Dear Diary,**_

**_I moved in with a nice man named Johnny a few days ago and he just so happens to be a homicidal maniac. Isn't that convenient?_**

_**What the fuck was I thinking?**_

_**Sincerely,  
**__**Felix**_

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Johnny glanced up to the doorway to see Felix pas by in the direction of her chambers. He sighed and shook his head, and glanced back down to his journal, reviewing what he had written so far.

_**Dear Die-Ary,**_

_**I let a nice little girl move in with me titled Felix, who just so happens to be another fucking thorn in my side.**_

_**What the fuck was I thinking?**_

An insane grin split his face, hunching his shoulders up with glee as he outstretched his arms in admiration for his entry. Oh, the wonderful truths of Jonathan Colt. Withdrawing his bony arms back, he continued:

**_But, perhaps she will not be like the others. Maybe those nights when the stars are peering down on every soul on the face of the world and I need someone there with me to peer at them back, I won't have to wish anymore. She knows who I am, what I have committed, and yes, still she remains, although through her russet-colored eyes I see a trembling little youth. She is either brave, desperate or immensely foolish. But, something tells me, she can keep my sanity in check without driving me over the brink._**

_**----- J.C. **_

Johnny's maniacal grin slowly faded into the typical frown of doubt as he scribbled down this paragraph. She did know who he was, the crimes he had committed, and yes indeed, she did stay. But, only because she does not have enough money to last her all the way home and she would rather live under a roof with an outcast like him then under the laughing stars alone. He sighed, his eyes reviewing the last line once again:

… _**something tells me, she can keep my sanity in check without driving me over the brink …**_

He arched an eyebrow as he quickly snapped his diary shut, holding it with his shoulder slouched up so the journal was concealing the bottom half of his face from half of his nose down.

He highly doubted that a ditz like Felix will be able to keep anything from tumbling off the edge of sanity.

* * *

Well, I hope you people liked it. I hated it, but okay. Drop a review pweez, and you shall all recieve your own pair of kitchen shears! Oh, the immense slightly-morbid joy! Nyah ha... stay tuned for the next chapter!

.::.:.::AnathA::.:.::.


	7. Persuasian

I'm so sorry guys that I have not been able to update, I really meant to I'm sorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee... alright, now that I'm done with that--- hey look, a new chapter! You people things probably already knew that, but that isn't the point!

Yet again, I'm so sorry I haven't update in awhile, but there's been some stuff going on that's been freakishly distracting, sorry.  
Oh well, here I go with the review-answering!

**ForbiddenToast: **I still say that the whole portrayed characters is a bit off, but I'm ignorant, so, neh. I portray well! Woooo... Yes, indeeded (I meant to spell it that way), you do recieve kitchen shears for going through the perilous effort of reviewing this horrible piece of writing. Thank you, thank you, _arigato, _tank ooh...

**Githoniel: **Don't we all, love? Anyways... WE ALL WANT THINGS IN LIFE THAT WE CAN'T RECIEVE, SO DEAL WITH IT! ... I'm kidding. You ish one of meh favorite reviewers, I wouldn't say that to you... or would I? o.O The world shall nevah know... but, yes, you do indeed obtain kitchen shears as well! Enjoy kitchen shears, my friend!

**invader tom: **Neh, you can have Squee as a brother, if you really want him that badly. Yea, he would not serve as horrible sibling or anything of the sort, but it just is that all siblings come to the point where they shove you off the Cliff of Sense to the Gorge of Insanity... nyah ha, I just made that metaphor up right now. Nyah ha... I'm horrible. I'm glad you're enjoying it! My Reading teacher was rummaging through my binder the other day when me and another acquaintant sojourned out to the library, and she even liked it. That,I found unbelievable (especially since I wasn't sent to the Dictator of the Educational Society's office... yes, what you might know as a principal is known to me as "Dictator of Educational Society"), yet pleasint... Woot! For reviewing, here are your kitchen shears.

**Kate: **That was quick and simple. But, thanks for liking it! I hope you tune in later for latter chapters.

**di: **Heh heh... I was about to say... that review did not make much sense. But, yes, I can see where the whole strange review could be reasoned for a hardware glitch. Neh, control your rage. You don't want to be shipped off to the Insane Asylum, it isn't as great as it seems... room service sucks there. What you are supposed to do when you're angry is scare the person you hate the most, and see what they do... unelss if they're the tattle-tell kidn, which will probably end up with you sentenced to the school counselor or Dictator of Educational Society's office. But, that's another thing, you're fifth to last sentence of the review: JTHM is not about a crazy, man who kills people. It's about a crazy, sad man who is trying to learn what we others can't and the pain and angst and tragedy that he is forced to go through... that just so happens to kill people. And, no, you don't have to shut up. Hell, the more you talk in your review, the more I get to waste answering that statement! So, it's actually welcomed. Oh, and before I forget, since you were a good human organism, here are your kitchen shears.

**Invader Nicole: **You flatter me, the chapters are not all that great. But is it really that hard to believe that I'm only twelve years old? Yesh, I am of a youthful age, and I ish proud of my youthful-ness! Hooray for youth... But, yea,I can kind of see how you can have that perspective on most twelve year olds. The ones at my school are probably some of the worst you will ever meet... complete assholes too busy selling their bodies or sniffing "le white shtuff" to crack open a novel. Fictional storylines aren't all that bad people! Hell, most of them contain a better reality in which you can lose yourself in! How can you people linger in this fucking reality, and call a happier one boring!? Why is it boring to you assholes!? Is it because there are unusual things that your tiny mind cannot comprehend!? Is it because you can't pronounce "cat?" Read more, you assholes! Reeeeeeeead! Oh, Invader Nicole, none of this is directed at you at all, sorry. I had to rant though... my existance at school is encompassed with morons. Pleased to know that you'll be a-waitin' the next chaptah! Enjoy your shears!

**lonelost: **... Deanna's proud of herself? o.O Deanna, you idiot, you know you can't handle soda! That's why you inform the host/hostess' parents, who will be mroe than happy to introduce you to a not-soda like liquid! Hell, live off of water, like I do sometimes. Well, the whole restraunt thing is kinda funny, so, I point and laugh at you in my head. Waidaminute, what story? o.O Er... let's look past that and just give you the Kitchen Shears.

**Nicole: **Pardon my errors, m'lady. But, if you look into the comic, Nailbunny was sort of in a way lost after the Thing Behind the Wall was unleashed, so, yea... it doesn't exactly mean that it would be nice to talk to something that isn't there anymore. It's like the teddy bear that I had when I was little: When I had no one to talk to, Shugah (the bear) was always there for me to converse there, and he could not judge me for opinions, and in my head I could hear him giving me advice. But, then, one day near the Christmas holidays, my parents (without asking my consent) sent him off to charity. Ever since then, even with Reki here in my bag wherever I go, when I feel like I need to talk to somebody, I can't tell Reki everything, because he might question my opinions and scold, rendering me in a nostalgic state of mind where I wish I had Shugah in my arms to spill heart to... but, I just sit there, wishing that I still had someone to talk to. Thanks for the first compliment though. _(holds out scissors) _Kitchen shears?

**Nessa Inwe: **Nuuuuuuuuuuuuu! Ish no see-ishc you in awhile! My terminal hasn't been that great either, so, neh... glad to see that you're still stickin' with it though! and yes, my dear friend, Kitchen Shears for you as well!

**blonde who enjoys blonde jokes: **We need more people like you at my school. I have nothing against the so-called "preps" (I hate labelling people, sorry) here at school, but they're always being assholes to me and some of my friends, so, it's kind of funny to have a prep occasionally killed within the storyline. I have nothing against them, honestly: I just sometimes visualize a specific human being that I know here in the Real World. Take, for example, the chick who was flirting with Johnny in chapter three: she wasn't necessarily preppy, but, she was based on an asshole that I know in the real world, who acts just like that. As I said before, we need more people like you at my middle school, even if you are fifteen (I'm twelve). Everyone here at my school doesn't have a damned clue who Johnny is, with the exception of my friends who know EXACTLY who he is. You swear to nachos that I was really the only decent one? That ish neat... wooooot! My self-esteem just rose up a notch! Thanks for the compliments! And, just like your fellow reviewers, thou sahlt recieve kitchen shears also!

Like I said before, I'm so sorry for not updating this sooner. But, still.... enjoy your chapter guys!

**

* * *

****CHAPTER 7:**

Persuasion 

"Todd, my dear little friend, what time is it?" Felix asked, catatonically staring up at the sky with a tentative glimmer within her eyes.

She was perched upon Todd's, or "Squee's," porch, with little Squee himself huddled up besides her, his eyes keenly observing her fingers as they fluidly waggled, causing the little strings of her little puppet (Elanor, she had titled it) to force the arms and legs to dance awkwardly on the concrete paved before them. It was a fine day supposedly, but to Felix's great disappointment, dark gray storm clouds had lazily floated in from the north, and a great breeze began to caress their stinging cheeks. It concerned Felix immensely, how all of this seemed to frighten her child friend so much… after all, it was merely going to be a brief little thunder storm, after all.

Elanor, though… she was a pearly-white plush girl with buttons for eyes, both black, both glinting maliciously in a non-existent light. There were black and storm cloud gray stitches sewn into her fair plush skin, though they were of an amateur's doing, for they were rather messily done (it is indeed fair to say that Felix is not the Van Gogh of threads and needles). The black and white dress clothing the marionette though was of the perfect size for the doll, and more than likely Felix's best needlework. Elanor's hair was actually thick dandelion yarn, flecks of gray within the entwined strands, which was all tied up in a little forest-green rubber band. Her mouth though, was stitched beneath a place where they should have been a nose sewn or drawn, but Felix had been too lazy to sketch one, therefore giving it a morbid zombie-like appearance (not only did Felix use Elanor for companionship as a child, but she also used Elanor to ward off her mocking enemies in elementary school on the playground.). At the time being when she had created her little friend, there was a construction site near her house, so that supplied her the with the wooden hand grip attached to the tips of the strings. The strings she had snuck from her mother's sewing kit (her mom loved to cross-stitch). That little string-bow of her mother's also happened to be where she obtained her needle, which she kept buried in the bottom of Elanor's case. When Squee had interrogated her about when she had made it, she had merely answered that she invented her little friend when she was about his age. Squee was satisfied with her answer, but still kept a wary eye upon her and her puppet-companion.

"Hold on," Todd said, softly placing Squee besides Felix's flank with his gaze still transfixed on the tapping puppet. "I'll go ask daddy."

Felix blinked and observed the little boy hoist himself up and waddle into the house innocently with his hands clamped together up front, his head declined somewhat. She inclined her own head to the right slightly while subconsciously laying Elanor flat besides her, and turned herself on all fours to crawl to the entrance of Squee's little domain, ear pressed curiously against the door. Suddenly, the muffled voice of Squee trailed through the door.

"Daddy?"

Felix nearly squealed, he sounded so darling! Oh, how adorable and so innocent he sounded… how could any parent refuse to respond to that sweet little voice of his? A soft, smile curled at the corners of her lips, her keen ears pressed harder against the door. Such a good, little boy definitely had to have loving, good parents that would—

"What the fuck do you want!?"

Felix blinked in astonishment, that happy, delicate smile immediately flipped upside down, her eyes wide. She had not seen that coming. Most, loving good parents would not say that to their good child… Concerned now, she vainly pressed her ear even harder against the thin door, straining her eardrums to catch every bit of it to properly diagnose Squee's parents directly.

"Daddy, what time is it?"

"Why the hell do you wanna know?"

"My friend wants to know what time it is."

"Since when the hell did you start making friends!?"

Felix blinked, her jaw dropping slightly in horror. "What the fuck is that supposed t' mean?" she hissed to no one in particular.

"When I first met the scary neigh—"

"Get the hell out of here, I'm busy!"

"But daddy, what—"

"It's four-thirty two, time for you to get the hell out of my face!"

"Okay, daddy…"

At this point, Felix's mouth was even more agape than it was before._ What the fuck!?_ she mouthed, tilting her head. What kind of a bloody parent says that to their only, frightened, innocent child!? Sure, if the parent is under an immense quantity of pressure or something of that sort of matter, of course he would want his offspring to skedaddle ((A/N: Jesus Christ, I hate that word…)), but interrogating him when he started meeting people!? Would not a parent be happy for their child if such a thing happened!? Why would someone hate Squee? He was a wonderful, sweet kid and a trustworthy little friend who just needed someone there to shield him from the frightening things of life… There was nothing wrong with the lad…

The sounds of his shuffling little feet brought her out of her angered, disgusted reverie, and she herself quickly scuffled back to her pose where she was sitting comfortably on the top rung with her legs outstretched in front of her. She turned her head to see Squee close the door behind him and plop his little form down next to her as he snatched Schmee up once again in his habitual bear-head-popping embrace.

"Are your parents always that concerned about you?" she asked bluntly, her eyes narrowing in new found detestation towards her little friend's guardians.

"Daddy loves me," Todd answered quietly. "so does mommy, but Daddy's always busy and Mommy's always so tired."

The female's head tilted sadly and her eyes softened a bit, sympathetically watching the little boy stare long and hard at his little bear Shmee. She stiffened her neck upright again in preparation to say something, but Squee suddenly spoke, "Um, it's four thirty-two, by the way…"

Felix smiled slightly at his act of information. "Thank you, Todd," she replied, pushing herself from her sitting position. There she pivoted in her crouch so she was facing Squee gingerly. "Hey," she began. "Ya know what?"

Squee tilted his head slightly, wondering warily why she had moved so quickly. "Hmmm?"

"It's October; ya know… ya know what means, right?"

Todd tilted his head and blinked. Evidently, he had not the slightest clue of what was going to happen later on in the month.

At his answer, Felix's smile expanded in secret amusement. "It's going to be Halloween soon," she informed gently, sitting back and watching him in grand delight. "What're you going to be this year?"

"I don't like Halloween," Squee was quick to reply softly, his bone-crushing embrace on Shmee increasing a little bit more.

It saddened her to see his eyes had increased in size once more, just like their first encounter, no doubt inflicted by such grand fright. Her smile faded slight, but, nevertheless, there was still a semi-happy expression upon her pale face. "Why do you not like, Halloween?" she asked, thoroughly concerned. "Most kids love this holiday! You get to dress up, get candy and stuff from the kind neighbors and friendly people, the wonderful orange and black decorations—what's there not to like about it?"

"How do you know that some of them are in costume…?" Squee muttered neurotically, twitching in what was no doubt fright, holding Shmee before his face so only his freakishly wide eyes were visible. "What are in all of those bags they have? How do you know its candy!? How do you know the candy isn't poisoned? Huh!? Huh!?"

Felix blinked and sat back with her legs childishly outstretched before her, pondering his musing. "Ya actually got a point there, Squeegee…" she muttered, staring at the sidewalk paved before her. "You're right… maybe some kid is abusively being used to by keeping some sort of a poison to use on chick… ens, to…" She titled her head and glanced back to the little boy, whom was still incessantly huggling his teddy bear. Suddenly, she laughed. "Squee! You had me thinking there for a second! But, er… no, there's nothing bad in the bag, so, why be afraid of bags?"

"I can fit in those bags…" Squee whispered hoarsely, cringing back slightly.

That statement had her thinking again, just another path of thinking. "Why would you get into one of those bags, anyways?" she inquired finally, careful to keep her eyes on him while she retrieved Elanor back onto the surface of her lap.

"There are people who might want to find out if I fit into those bags…"

She tilted her head, and she chuckled slightly. "You don't like Halloween because so many things scare you?" she asked gently, absent-mindedly running her fingers through Elanor's dandelion-gray hair. When Squee offered a short nod to regard her question, she averted her gaze back down to the concrete. Suddenly, her smile grew back in place and she looked up quickly.

"I have an idea," she began, gently placing Elanor besides her cross-legged position. "How about you get your parents to go Trick-or-Treating with you on Halloween?"

"Mommy'll be too tired, and Daddy has lotsa work t' do," Squee mumbled, though his eyes size did decease slightly.

Then what if I take you trick-or-treating this year? I don't have any plans… come on, it might be fun and stuff, and evidently you don't either, and I'll make sure that nobody tries to shtuff ((A/N: Yes, it's meant to be spelt that way)) you in a trick-or-treat bag."

Squee's whole face slowly emerged over the peak of Shmee's head, his eyes watching her cautiously. Could he trust his neighbor Felix already? Sure, she was very kind and understanding and all, but still… she lived with the scary neighbor man, and anyone who lived with the scary neighbor man has to have something wrong with them, right? But, still, the scary neighbor man was nice to him, and so was this lady… what would it hurt?

His gaze went downcast and he buried the bottom half of his face into Shmee's head, but he nodded to signify his consent.

Felix, though she kept a small smile upon her face, was positively delighted. She leapt up in the air so suddenly that it caused him to habitually squeak ("squee" as Johnny informed her). She wheeled around on the heel of her foot, leg up in the air to sprint to the neighboring house excitedly, when she realized Elanor was not in her happy, clenched fist.

"Hmmm… Todd," she began again, lowering her leg slowly and crouching down once more to retrieve her puppet friend. When she saw Squee look to her to notify she possessed his attention, she continued. "would it be alright if Johnny came with us? He doesn't necessarily need a costume, and if for some reason I could not watch and attend to your side, we both know that he would protect you."

Squee's eyes enlarged once again, the right retina twitching occasionally. The scary neighbor man… with him… at night… no parents… to be his guardian… on… HALLOWEEN!?

"We both know that he wouldn't hurt you, Todd," Felix reminded him bluntly, tilting her head customarily. Though it was a reluctant action to admit it, he knew all to well that she was correct, and nodded slightly to display that he comprehended.

Felix's smile took its rightful place again upon her lips, now in danger of coming in contact with her tri-pierced earlobes. It frightened Squee slightly, but only because she harked the same face of a certain insane, homicidal maniac living next door who just so happened to live in the same household as her…

She ran her fingers through Elanor's blond hair again, and waved her other hand to Squee in farewell. "I'll see you later, Todd," she said, beginning to meander down the concrete pathway. "I just have to convince Johnny that it's a good idea."

Toddy's eyes expanded again as she said this, but she was much too far away now for her keen ears to catch the characteristic, inaudible "Squeeeeeeeee…" muffled via his little teddy bear's head pressed against his mouth.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Darting down the hallway, she followed the typical screams from one of the lower chambers, half aware that Elanor was flowing liquid-like in the air behind her in time with the rhythm of her footsteps. The stairway, you ask? 'Twas yet another aspect of the household she had discovered when Johnny was on his seventeen-and-a-half hour long hike outdoors. She had gotten used to the cries coming from below her room, but her stomach had not toughened enough to handle some of the shit that Nny pulled on the assholes he captured. She can watch some of it without flinching now, but that had become unbelievably rare. Most of the time she covered her eyes anyways, especially if she had not eaten yet.

After locating the trapdoor she had discovered the other day, she had lowered her lanky form onto one of the steps and bounced down the rungs in search for the homicidal housemate.

Finally she found him—and was surprised to find the one who had been bellowing and shouting was Johnny himself. But, it was not in pain and agony and discomfort, but in what seemed to be rage and anger…

Anger in which he was pinning onto his unfortunate victim, who was sprawled uncomfortably on the floorboards with hooks caught into his wrist and one in his crotch, and each of his ankles were bailed down. A screw driver was lodged into his right ear, but, unfortunately, for the victim, he managed to cling onto life…

Oh, how deeply it sucked to be him.

Seeing such a horrifying sight, the room began to swim slightly, but, clutching onto the door frame allowed poor, scarred Felix to keep her flimsy stance. Jesus Christ, Johnny had quite an imagination… Felix kept her ground though, and just stood there, listening to Johnny's incessant rants and accusations and bitching.

"-AND WHAT THE FUCK IS THE POINT OF CRITISCIZING SOMEONE WHEN YOU'RE GOING TO BE A FUCKING HYPOCRITE ABOUT IT? WHY DO YOU DO THAT TO PEOPLE, CLAIMING THAT YOU ARE THE BEING WHO IS DILEBERATELY UNIQUE FROM EVERYONE ELSE, AND THERE IS ONLY ONE HUMAN ON THE FACE OF THIS FUCKING EARTH!? WHAT DO YOU SEE, MAN WHO IS SUPPOSEDLY TOWERING OER MY RANK, WHAT DO YOU SEE IN THIS WORLD AND WHAT MAKES YOU FEEL MORE SUPERIOR THAN THE REST OF U—"

"Ahem; Nny?"

Immediately, his ear-splitting screaming ceased, as he slowly craned his neck to stare at the girl whom he shared his household with. "Hullo, Felix," he said, grinning insanely. "I was having a little talk here, if you had not noticed. Would it be alright if you came later?" Already he was beginning to rotate around to fish out some new horrible painful weapon from his own doctor bag.

"Johnny, I have an idea for To- um, Squee," she asserted, dropping Elanor besides the bloodstained doorframe. At this statement, the maniac halted. "You do realize that Halloween is in about… oh say… twenty-five days, no?"

"Yes…" Johnny replied ever slowly, straightening his posture vaguely and bowed his head slightly, peering at the man who was too frightened and stunned to see a female step in, inexplicably unharmed and questioning his reaper about… Halloween?

"Well, I thought that maybe we can take him Trick-or-"

"No."

"Johnny!"

"Yes?"

"We have too! He's so frickin' scared of everything and that little teddy bear of his—"

"I don't like that bear…"

"I know ya don't, Johnny, Squeegee informed me about that, but… damn it, ay got me sidetracked! Damn it, LISTEN!"

Johnny arched a brow, but sighed in exasperation—(He's_ annoyed? _She thought to herself unbelievably) – closed his eyes to signal that she had permission to continue her idea.

"We can take him trick-or-treating, Nny," Felix began again, lacing her fingers together and resting them upon her bosom. "It would be really good for him, and as I said before, he's so frightened of everything, and the closest thing he has to a best friend is a teddy bear bewitching his innocent little mind to suicide and homicide! No offense," she quickly added before she roused a reaction from her friend. "but, anyways, Johnny, he needs to go out—"

"I won't do it," Johnny said conclusively, crossing his arms. "Halloween is a holiday in which I prefer to avoid society and keep indoors… the children constantly ringing the damned doorbell, the sweet-smelling kids clinging to their fucking parents-"

"But Todd doesn't even have worthy enough parents to cling to, let alone take him out for a night to enjoy himself," Felix quickly interjected, halting Nny from continuing his Why-I-Detest-Halloween list.

Johnny slowly rotated his head back to regard her, and was surprised to find a pleading gleam in her russet-hued eyes. She really wanted to do this…

Pleased that the maniac ceased his objection, she continued, "Please, Johnny. This is a kid who has the worst parental guardians in the entire world… and he doesn't feel safe out there in the neighborhood, let alone on the front pavilion of the face of his household! Please Johnny? For the frightened, sad little boy next door?"

She had him cornered. He had to admit, he did burden a large quantity of concern for the little chap… and, the knowledge was practically tattooed in his brain that Squeegee's parents were simplistically assholes. They were no where near adapted to the whole caring for your child thing, he knew so well… Perhaps his feminine companion… maybe all little Squee needed was to go out, and live one evening where he need not be frightened to the core.

"Fine, fine," Johnny succumbed softly, shaking his head. Not only had he given in for the sake of his dear little friend Todd, but also to covert that sad, pleading gleam in Felix's eyes. He didn't like it… 'twas immensely vexing.

Felix couldn't help but release a delighted chuckle, as she quickly bent forward to obtain Elanor, took a step out the door—

"Felix?"

She stopped suddenly in her posture, and glanced behind her shoulder to regard her friend. Unfortunately, his voice was toneless and she was facing his back, crippling her ability to read the emotion upon his features. "Yes, Johnny?" she answered.

"We don't have to fetch and purchase his costume, do we?"

"Yuh-huh."

"Fuck.

"Sorry, Nny."

"It's alright, I suppose…"

"Well, I'll be—"

"Felix?"

She rotated around again to face him, a small smile chiseled in her pale face. "Hmmm?"

"Could you pass me the pliers? It's next to that roach cadaver that you almost stepped on… could you pass me that real quick?"

Felix almost squealed when he informed her almost trotting in cockroach remains, but stifled it for the sake of her sanity, and not for only that! She shuddered slightly, frightening methods of torturing someone with pliers racing through her head. Despite the unpleasant images, she complied, took a couple of steps back (eyes vigilant for the dead roach), careful to not plant the heel of her boot atop the crunchy shell of the dead bug that might appear into her sight range. She cringed at the sight of the dead bug finally, its insides now dry and hardened, with its small eyes slightly bulged out… half of the shell was still there, though a quarter of it was slowly being devoured by flocking gnats and maggots. ((A/N: Nyah ha… it's amazing how I can describe this right after eating my dinner, and not feel the least bit ill…)) Clutching Elanor tightly to her chest, she gave the pliers besides the bug corpse a light kick, sending it spinning across the floor, but then skidded to a halt after a harsh impact against Johnny's steel-toe boots. Felix tasted bile in the back of her throat when it dawned on her that when she had sent the pair of pliers across to Johnny, a tad bit of it had nicked the dead cockroach, light, thin lines of tan bug guts streaking across the floorboards.

"Thanks," Johnny expressed, bending over and swiping up the tool in his firm, skeletal grasp. She could not see it, but she knew on that canvas of a face that an insane, maniacal grin was painted there, the metaphoric paint brush slowly adding more and more detail to the corners as he advanced towards his victim. Once again, Johnny crossed his arms behind his back, and the horrified Felix observed the tool menacingly twirling in his hands.

"Dinner's at six," she whispered hoarsely, taking a small step backwards, the embrace of her puppet increasing dangerously. With that said, she wheeled around on the heel of her boot and waltzed as quickly (but politely) out of the chamber, half surprised, half relieved, altogether frightened. Her foot had just lifted from the landing of the staircase, when she could have sworn that she heard him:

"So; where was I again?"

Bile began rising again in her esophagus again, and her already mask-white face began paling even more, if it were at all possible. She chuckled nervously, swallowed, but then broke out into a run, dashing up the string of rungs as if she were attempting escape from Johnny himself. She did not wish to examine Johnny's ritual of torture upon that poor man, let alone have the onomatopoeia haunt her already terrifying nightmares.

Once she had reached the tip-top of the stairs, she flung herself forward into the normal corridor of the first level, shoulders shaking slightly. She had escaped insanity once again! ((A/N: _(waves a little flag) _Whooooooooo…))

Shuddering slightly, she shakily staggered to an awkward stance, nuzzling against the Elanor's head in protection. "What for dinner, what for dinner…?" she softly repeated to herself, nervously shuffling down the seemingly-eternal hallway.

* * *

Alright, there we go! Chapter seven has now officialy concluded! yet again, I'm soooo sorry,I honestly intended to update earlier. Ooh, and I have a PhotoBucket now, for all you people who have accounts on LiveJournal or like to roleplay on Proboards or something. Yea, I made a selection of avatars, and more are coming soon, and all of you are free to use them!

Stay tuned for next chapter, and please drop a review for me!  
Ja ne!

.::.:.::AnathA::.:.::.


End file.
